Happily Ever After
by TheRealAmeliaPond
Summary: Alexandria Moreno has something to tell her boyfriend, Harry Potter. How will he take it? And will she get the happy ending she's always wanted? Set in Alex's POV. Rated Teen for sexual situations, may go up, and for language.
1. Positive

_**Chapter 1 Author's Notes...**_

_**Summary: Alexandria Moreno has always believed in love, but can never seem to find some for herself. Now that's she's found who she believes is her soul mate, nothing can ruin it, right? Unfortunately after a bad idea gets the better of her she finds herself in a predicament where she fears she very well might lose him. How will she explain? Will he understand? And will Alex finally get the happy ending she's always dreamed of? ****Set in Alex's POV. Rated Teen for sexual situations, may go up, and for language.**_

**Okay y'all, this is a little something i threw together lately. It's AU, but it's the AU version of my version, not JKR's version... u know what, i'm confusing myself and i'm sure i'm confusing you so i'll cut to the chase. This would basically be what happened if Harry hadn't left Alex after Dumbledore's funeral. Okay now that that's been established, i don't own the world of Harry Potter and all the awesome characters in it, they are the brilliant creations of JKR and i as much as i wish i had come up with them, i didn't. But i do own Alex, Dominik, Ana, Rory, Enrique, Cristina and all the rest of the characters u don't recognize.**

**I'm digresssing again. Anyway, i know this chapter is a little short but this is the only place i could see to break it off for a while so... ya. Read it already, sheesh.**

**-mmb (mystrymoviebrunette)

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_Chapter 2 Author's Notes..._ **

**Ok, i'm so sorry i didn't get this posted yesterday but i had homework to catch up on so that had to take priority (at least that's what my mom told me...) Anyway, i doubt any of u care because no one even read it yesterday except for my home girl, sum nox, but she couldn't review because for some strange reason her account's being funky.**

**Alright, here's the next chapter and sry that the other one was so short.**

**-mmb**

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_UPDATE 8/14/6:_ I've decided to merge chapter 1 and 2. They were just too short. So yeah, no _major_ changes, but you might still want to read through it. 

Oh, and if you're wondering why I have the old author's notes, I just like having them. I think they're fun.

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I've decided to merge chapter 1 and 2. They were just too short. So yeah, no changes, but you might still want to read through it. 

**Chapter One: Positive/Black and White**

Positive...

It has to be wrong, I _have_ to be mistaken. I pick up the pamphlet that came with the test and double check the directions, but I'm not sure why. It's not like I can screw up peeing on a stick. And I'm sure I waited three minutes. And, of course, there's no mistaking the display window symbols; they're pretty self-explanitory. Positive is yes, and negative is no.

I bury my face in my hands and sigh at the irony. Probably all my life, all I've wanted was definitive answers. Sometimes it's nice for it to be so clean cut, for there only to be yes or no answers. Sometimes, all you really want is for there just to be black and white, and for all the varying shades of gray to take a long walk off a short pier.

I roll my eyes. The logical part of my brain (a very small portion) tells me that if I _really_ didn't want to know, I shouldn't have taken the test. Then I tell myself that, despite the fact that I don't _want_ to know, I need to know. Let's face it, if I really am pregnant, I have to go get an exam to make sure the baby and I are healthy and everything. If I really am pregnant, that means I can't drink. Damn, that means no coffee either. That really sucks 'cause I could really use a cup about now. And that means no chocolate either. Wait... does chocolate have caffeine in it?

Hold on. I'm getting sidetracked... again. I always do.

Anyway, like I was saying, sometimes all you want is a straight answer. Like when I was nine.

My dad had been sent away to Azkaban when I was barely even one and I barely knew the guy aside from bedtime stories, a photograph or two and an occasional letter and birthday gift. Then, I asked my mom if Dad was going to come to my tenth birthday party (which happened to be approaching). Mom kinda gave a sad strained smile and said, "I hope so, mi higa."

I hope so? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Definitely not the answer I was hoping for.

Then when Mom got sick, the doctors would always tell us things were looking good and that they were hopeful for Mom's recovery. The thing is, she just kept getting worse. I wanted to believe what they were saying, but after a while I couldn't deny that it was a load of bullshit. Everyday, Mom got weaker and paler and sicker. Even worse, Mom gave up. Mom refused to eat and couldn't sleep and was always depressed. And after what happened, I can't blame her. I still to this day believe that it killed her.

I finally decided to just ask the doctor if she was going to die. He gave me the smile Mom had given me and said, "We're doing the best we can. We'll do anything we can to help save your mom."

The best they could? _This_ was the best they could? There was a woman in that hospital bed, suffering and dying and they weren't doing _anything_ to make her better.

Mom died soon after that, a couple months before my eleventh birthday.

Then when I was thirteen, I met my dad for the first time. I'd been going to Hogwarts for three years already, I'd made friends and they helped me find him (even if they didn't know it). I got to visit with him that summer and asked him if he meant to hurt Mom when he sent her that letter, because she got sick soon after she'd received it. He screwed up his face and tried to smile, but it only made him look like he was in pain. All I got from him was, "I love your mother, even now that she's gone... probably more than you will ever know. Everything I did, I did for her."

That was it. I'd had it with this bullshit. He'd done that for her? It killed her, what he'd done. All the repressed anger and feelings I hadn't been able to tell anyone boiled over and before I realized what I was doing, I found myself on my feet, yelling, "You didn't do this for her! You did it for yourself! This was a cowardly man's way of getting out of a marriage he didn't want! How can you sit there and lie and say you loved her and that letter was written in her best interest! That letter... it, it broke her heart! It killed her!"

My point, before I somehow end up on the subject of roasting water buffalo, is that all those times I wanted a yes or no answer. I would've done anything for a clear answer. But now I don't want it. I realize now that those answers were their way of protecting me, of shielding me from all the pain the black and white answer would bring. I realize now that all their answers were true: Mom really did want Dad to be at my birthday party, even if she knew he wouldn't; the doctor really meant that he'd do everything in his power to save her, even if he knew there was nothing left to do; and Dad really did love Mom and that letter was written so she would be happy, just like he said, but he knew the letter was going to hurt her, just not to the magnitude it did. They just didn't want to take away all my hope, which is what a yes or no does. It takes away all hope that it might be other answer. Sometimes you hear what you want to hear, somtimes you don't. But when you hear what you don't want to hear, there's no hope that it could be what you want.

Can you say 'ironic'?

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**_Chapter 1 Author's Notes..._**

**Okay, u know the drill: read, review and stay tuned for the next chapter.**

**Alright, i admit, that was a little cheezy, but if you wanna read this story u have to put up with my cheeziness. :)**

**Peace, Love, and Granola Bars,**

**mmb

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_Chapter 2 Author's Notes..._ **

**Did u like it? Please? **

**Well anyway i hope to have another chapter up by Monday, 4/24.**

**Good Night and Good Luck,**

**mmb**


	2. Happily Ever After

**Okay, new chapter up. Now unless i get another chapter up today, don't expect one till this thrusday, cuz i have standardized testing this week (AAAARRRRGH!). **

**Alrighty then, read! Review! And please enjoy!**

**Peace, Love and Granola, **

**mmb**

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**_UPDATE 8/14/6:_ I recently changed this chapter just a bit, adding onto it. You will definitely want to go back through to see what I added, because it may help clarify the title and the future chapters. Plus it's nice and long. :)**

**Much Love,**

**mmb**

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**Chapter 2: Happily Ever After**

I suddenly feel a strange uncomfortable lurch in my stomach and just manage to flip up the seat of the toilet just in time. It comes in handy to have played Quidditch for most of my life. You build up good reflexes.

Damn, I can't play Quidditch either. It's like my sole source of exercise. Me and Harry (I could care less if that's proper grammar) go up to the Quidditch pitch at the castle on the weekend when there aren't any games and play one on one and see who can catch the Snitch faster or who can score more goals on each other. I usually win when we play for goals, and Harry usually wins when we chase the Snitch. And now Harry's not gonna let me play because I'm pregnant. I'm going to be one fat pregnant chick. Grrr. Suffice it to say I'm not seeing the upside in procreation at this point.

All I can think (aside from the fact that morning sickness sucks) with my head in the toilet and my hands tightly gripping the rim, holding on for dear life, is that I have to keep it down. Harry is sleeping in our bedroom. Even as I sit up again and wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand, my thoughts travel to him. I put the lid back down on the toilet softly, walk out of the bathroom and turn off the light. The pregnancy test is still in my hand. I slip silently out of the room, down the winding spiral staircase, to the lower level of the loft.

As I enter the kitchen, I automatically walk towards our brand new cappucino maker (which raises coffee to an art form, I'll have you know) and I get halfway through filling it up before I realize that I can't have coffee. After swearing loudly, I regroup and fill the kettle with water and then set it on the burner. Then, in true little housewife style, I go into the laundry room to start a load of laundry. It makes me feel like I'm thirty, but I don't really care. I have to be good at this stuff before the baby comes.

I fill up the washer, pour a cup of liquid laundry detergent in the proper place and then turn it on. I take a deep breath and realize that it smells like mothballs and belly button lint (or what I imagine belly button lint smells like) and stale breath. After checking my breath, I realize I'm responsible for that last smell. I open up the window to get rid of the first two. A blast of cold air attacks the room. I swear, it has to be at least 10 below out there.

Of course, a more likely explanation is that I'm wearing nothing but a cami and boy shorts (not Harry's, the actual style of underwear. Geez, get your mind out of the gutter...) and the fact that I was born and raised in California, and simply can't handle cold weather. Plus I'm half Mexican, and frankly we're built for swelteringly hot weather. Put us in the icy North (AKA, Britian), and we simply freeze.

I push myself up onto the machine and sit there for a minute, the vibrations calming me slightly. I look at the pregnancy test, which hasn't left my sight since the plus sign appeared on it. I can't risk Harry finding it before I have a chance to tell him myself.

I'm not sure why looking at this is so captivating to me. It's just a piece of plastic with two little display windows. Wait, two? There's the one with the positive sign, but there's another one that I just noticed. It has a little cover that you have to pull offand in tiny letters it says "Duration" on it. Duration?

I pull off the little cover and I suddenly realize what duration means. In the window it says "6 w." Six weeks... I'm not sure why, but I hadn't realized that I'd been pregnant that long. I often skip periods for a month when I'm stressed but never for two. That's why I took the test this month.

Suddenly, I hear the kettle whistling in the other room. I jump off the washing machine and hurry back into the kitchen. I turn off the burner and the whistling subsides. I open up the cabinet and grab a coffee mug. Luckily, just last week I bought caffeine-free mint tea. I fix myself a cup of tea and then take it back up to the room. Itake a seat in my big, cooshyarmchair, facing the bed and absent-mindedly stirring my tea with my spoon. I usually turn the chair around, so I can face out the window when I paint. But nothing could be more intriuging or more perfect than what is asleep in my bed.

Harry was sleeping on his side, facing me. His jet black hair is messy (pff, what else is new?) and his bangs are falling into his eyes in the sexiest way. He's wearing a simple white t-shirt. It's just tight enough to show off his lean muscles he's put on from Auror training. I never realized just how in shape you have to be for that career. But I have to say, despite the fact that training brings in no money, I like the other perks, as I eye his pectorals hungrily.

I shake my head violently, as through trying to shake the idea out of my head. Thoughts like those are what got me into this predicament. My hand involuntarily jumps to my stomach.

My eyes are burning again and I can't blink the tears back this time. How am I supposed to tell him about the baby, now when the war against Voldemort is waging harder than ever? How am I supposed to tell him that on top of worrying about me and whether I'm safe or not, he's also going to have to worry about another tiny being?

I set my other hand on my forehead and sigh. I don't know why I should be acting like this. I shouldn't be unhappy. I'm so lucky. I have a boyfriend who I'm crazy about and he loves me to death too and would do anything for me. In fact, I realize smiling, we're more than boyfriend and girlfriend. He's my best friend. He's my soul mate. Even more than all of those, he's my chance at happily ever after.

When I was little, I'd read all the fairytales--Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Beauty and the Beast--and I'd always dream about my Prince Charming. About this perfect guy who'd always treat me right, who never leave me, who'd hold me close when I'm scared and comfort me when I'm sad. About the guy who'd love me forever and give me the happily ever after I'd always wanted.

But I slowly lost hope in my Prince Charming, and in happily ever afters too. After my dad left my mom (by way of letter, no less) I was crushed. I always saw my parents as the perfect example of true love, and when I realized it was over, I didn't know what to believe anymore. Love wasn't supposed to just give up, I thought. But then why did Mama and Papa divorce? Why did love give up on them? At that age the only conclusion I could come up with was that love really didn't exist. All it was was a puffed-up word used to sell movies and books.

And along with that, I slowly lost hope in happily ever afters. After my mom died, I didn't think it was even possible to happy for even a few minutes, let alone forever. Happy endings, I reasoned, were just the beginning of the slow and torturous decline into a living hell.

So needless to say, when I came to Hogwarts, I wasn't the biggest advocate of love. Or relationships, either. So when I met Harry, I didn't think anything of the butterflies in my stomach whenever he passed by or the way my heart would quicken whenever I looked into his electrifying eyes. I told myself it was a purely natural reaction. It was just an instinctive response, human pheromones at work.

Then, slowly but surely, I was converted. Every time I watched Harry put his life on the line and somehow come out of it all in one piece made me a believer. Harry's mom had given up her life, just for the slight chance Harry would live. She could've walked away, started a new family somewhere far away where her past couldn't find her. She could've reasoned that Harry was going to die any way, and having her die along with him would be a waste.

But she didn't.

She had enough insight into the true secret of happy ever afters to know that with her end would bring forth the chance for a new beginning in Harry. She knew, somehow, someway, that her sacrifice would make a difference, that somehow, her son would be saved by her unending love for him. She gave him everything she had, and when she had nothing left, she gave herself, and that's all you can really do.

But even then, all that proved to me was that love _did_ exist. It didn't prove it could happen to me.

So I knew love was there, but always kept it at arm's length, the easiest way to protect myself. And as I did so, I unwillingly kept love away. I mean, I'd had a handfull of boyfriends, but never anything really serious. I kept thinking, why doesn't love ever find me? I could see it happening all around me. It was around my forth year, and I saw everyone pairing off. I watched Dom and his embarrassed attempts to inconspicuously flirt with Ginny, who had no idea and currently had her eye on that Corner dude in Ravenclaw. I watched Hermione get asked out by Krum--literally, I have a little spying problem--and how her porcelain cheeks flushed to a pretty pink as he embarrassedly muttered, "I vas vondering... if erm... maybe you vould like to accompainy me to the Yule Ball." I watched Ron--who had no idea--yearn after her, but not even realize he was doing it. And worst of all, I watched Harry pine after Cho, with his failing endeavors to ask her out, not even realizing how much _I_ cared about him. And through all this, I never realized that, in order to love, you had to open yourself to it. Otherwise it's like sticking your head in the sand: love can be coming at your from all sides, but you'll never know because you don't want to risk checking to see if you're all alone.

So once I really thought about what I felt, I realized that I _did_ love Harry. Probably more strongly than I'd felt for anything or anyone. I could look at him, and feel exhilarated and thrilled and so alive, but protected at the same time. We could tease each other, joke and play around, and argue so bad it often put Hermione and Ron to shame. I could picture our wedding, having kids, having fights, and all the while sharing our love and lives.

And it sucked. I'd finally had love thrown at me, and all Harry could see was Cho, smart and witty and elegant and beautiful. It didn't matter that I cared about him more than Cho ever could, _ever_. It didn't matter that I was right there, just waiting patiently for him to take a good look at me and see what had been there for such a long time. It didn't matter because Harry was never going to look away from Cho, and even if he did, I'd be the last place he'd look. And unless I was willing to risk my tail for the cause, that was how it was going to stay.

So one day I quickly formulated a plan. It was about a week or two before the Yule Ball, and to be completely honest, I wanted to know if he was going with Cho. I hate to say it, but the Yule Ball was the wizard equivalent to Prom in the sense that it was--for the girls--a night to give it up. Not particularly classy, considering there were Third Years that were attending, but peer pressure can make girls do some promiscuous things. So the bottom line was if Harry was going with Cho, there was a chance I'd loose him forever.

That was _not_ an option.

So when I watched Harry plop down on the sofa in the Common Room--about a week and a half before the ball--as I spied from the stairs, I know that this is my chance. I watch him sigh and recline deeply into the sofa's cooshy back. Even though, as one of his best friends, I should be concerned that he's so depressed, I'm not. I'm excited. Maybe this means that Cho already has a date. Maybe it means that I won't lose Harry to Cho after all.

It was time.

"Hey!" I says to him, jumping down the rest of the stairs, taking two or three and a time. Harry nearly jumps out of his skin from shock.

"Alex, you scared the shit out of me!" Harry breath as I walk around the couch towards him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," I say, plopping down next to him on the couch, trying not to look to overly happy. "Didn't realize you weren't paying attention."

"Yeah, well, I'm a little preoccupied," Harry say, rubbing his eyes.

"With?" I ask, positioning myself with my bare feet up on the seat and my back leaning against the sofa's armrest. I do my best impression of innocence, even though I pretty much already know what he'll say.

"Oh, let's see," he says, sarcastically cheerful. "I have to actually _dance_ at the Yule Ball with a partner that's halfway presentable to avoid looking like an idiot and not to mention I have the Second Task coming up and I still haven't the foggiest on what to do with that egg."

"Okay, let's focus on the Yule Ball portion of your large conundrum," I say, leaning forward and resting my arms on my knees. I have to keep him on track. The egg, frankly, is going to have to wait.

"There I have two large, gaping problems. Firstly I can't dance."

I laugh. That is such a guy thing to say.

"Don't be stupid Harry," I says, smiling to hide the fact that I'm cracking up, "everyone can dance if they try hard enough."

"Not me." I roll my eyes.

"I'll see what I can do. Now what's the other problem."

"I don't have a date."

"You mean you haven't already asked Cho?" I say, annoyed, as I act like it doesn't bother me.

"Well, I — hang on," Harry says, just catching onto what I said. "How did you know about me and Cho?"

"Harry, there are only two things that can be seen from outer space:" I says, forcing myself to laugh as I emotionally prepare to say the next part, "the Great Wall of China and your monster crush on Cho Chang. Don't think I didn't catch you making eyes at her on the train. 'Oh, hi Harry!'" I say, mimicking Cho's voice and batting my eyes for good measure, even though it makes me sick to even mimick that ditzy bitch.

"Shut up," Harry laughs, though he looks slightly embarrassed, what with his downcast eyes and flushed cheeks. He's always so cute when he's embarrassed.

"So you haven't asked her?" I say, keeping my face neutral as I desperately wait for an answer.

"Worse. I asked her and she said no. Said she's going with Diggory."

THANK GOD! I think. After fighting the urge to do a huge cheer, along with a well-choreographed hip-hop routine to 'Hey Ya', I joke around, just to make seem things a little more platonic-feeling.

"Oh, I can't blame her, that there's a fine piece of ass," I say, laughing. Harry frowns. "Oh, come on," I add apologetically. "It was just a joke."

"Yeah, well that pretty boy stole Cho away from me," Harry says, brooding. I look at him sadly.

"You really care about her," I say softly, brushing his hair out of his eyes with my fingertips. "Don't you?"

"Yeah," he says quietly, looking at me, his eyes filled with sorrow. "Yeah, I really do."

I suddenly feel awful. Actually, that's a _major _understatement. I feel like the world's biggest, most selfish bitch of all time. Cho Chang had _nothing_ on me, honey.

All I'd taken the time to see was the fact that _I_ loved Harry. I never stopped to think that maybe Harry really did love Cho. He deserved her. He deserved Cho, who was smart and classy and elegant and beautiful, not me, who was jealous and selfish and petty and really retarded--don't believe me? Check out my report cards. Harry deserved so much better than what I could offer him.

"Cm'ere," I say, sitting up and setting one of the decorative pillows on my lap. "I'll rub your head."

This has been a tradition amongst us since we met in the first year. To make a long story short, he basically saw me giving one to Dominik and asked for one... fine, so maybe it _wasn't_ such a long story. Anyway, Harry gladly accepts, all this girl business obviously giving him a headache. He rests his head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling, and I begin stroking his scalp and running my fingers through his hair. He's so close I could smell his cologne--even then, it was _Fierce_--and it's intoxicating, not to mention his hair is _so_ soft. How does a _guy_ get such silky hair? It's not like he even tries--_oh geez,_ I tell myself. _Control yourself. He's your best friend. And you _aren't_ going to screw up this thing with Cho._

"Mmmmm..." Harry says, bringing me back to reality as he slowly closes his eyes.

"Feel good?" I ask.

"Yeah…"

"Okay," I say, thinking quickly, "I'm not sure what to do about the whole Cho situation. Is there anyone else that you'd think to ask?"

"Not a soul."

Ouch. That really stings.

"What's the matter?" Harry says suddenly, looking up at me with those green eyes of his.

"Oh, nothing," I says quickly and kept rubbing.

"Why'd you stop?"

"I'm just trying to think of a plan of action." I tell him, covering for my pause in his head massage.

"Good luck with that," Harry says, closing his eyes again. I laugh, the first real laugh since this started.

"You sound like you have so much faith in me." I say, smiling.

"Don't go fishing for sympathy." Harry smiles, quite obviously enjoying the sensation of my amazing fingers against his scalp. "You'll find none with me."

"With you…." I say slowly, as it triggered a brainstorm. "With you!"

Suddenly I knew what I had to do. If I truly loved Harry, I'd have to put my money where my mouth was and prove it. Because I loved him, I'd make a sacrifice so that he'd be happy, just like his mother had--although I wasn't planning on taking Avada Kedavra to the chest for him at that moment.

"What are you on about?" Harry says, opening his eyes again.

"Harry, don't you get it?" I say, smiling as though I've just come up with a brilliant beyond brilliant idea. "Take me!"

Harry just looks at me for a second, like he's sizing me up, then bursts out laughing, pulling himself up to sit upright.

"What?" I ask, faking insult as a smile peeked out. I punch him hard in the arm.

"Ouch!" Harry says, but continues to laugh.

"Okay, now I'm really getting insulted," I say, frowning. I didn't think this idea would be _that_ outrageous. I mean, I wouldn't havebeen caught dead in a skirt or a frilly top at that time, but I totally would have for a ball. It couldn't have been that crazy to imagine me in a dress. "What is so funny?"

"Why would I take you?" he asks laughing.

Ouch, again.

"So you can make Cho jealous!" I say. He just looks at me for a second, and then bursts out laughing again.

Okay, this wasn't working. He wasn't even taking me seriously. And he wasn't being nice about it either. He was insulting my suitablity as someone's girlfriend/date, and he was insulting my looks. What girl on the face of the earth wouldn't be jealous if the guy they liked was at a ball with me? Not to mention the fact that all I was trying to do was help him out, and he was full out laughing in my face.

Before I give into my growing urge to rip his face off, I sigh and said, "Forget it," and walk right out of the Common Room. As the portrait door swings closed, I hear Harry say, "Alex!" But I'm not planning on stopping. If he wants to apologize, then he's gonna have to catch me first.

I make it downout of the castlebefore he catches me.

I'm sitting on the edge of the lake—my legs up against my chest with my arms wrapped around them, my chin resting on top of my knees—when I hear falling footsteps, probably Harry.

"Lex," he says, looking at me. I look up to check that's him, and once I verify, I rest my left cheek on my knees so I'm looking away from him. He groans. "Lex, c'mon." He walks around to the other side, and I turn my head the other way just as he kneels down on my right. "Alex!"

"What!" I say, whipping my head around to look at him, my ponytail whipping around in the process. "What do you want?"

"What's the matter?" he asks.

Oh, no he didn't.

"WHAT'S THE MATTER!" I bellow furiously, jumping to my feet and looking down at him as I scream at him. "YOU INSENSITIVE JERK! YOU LAUGH AT THE THOUGHT THAT I COULD BE SOMEONE'S DATE OR MAKE ANOTHER CHICA JEALOUS AND THEN YOU ASK ME 'WHAT'S THE MATTER'!"

"Alex, calm down," Harry says quietly—or quietly compared to me, anyway. He looks a little shell-shocked. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I just thought you were joking."

"Oh, well that makes me feel much better!" I say sarcastically.

"Alex, I'm sorry," Harry says. From his tone of voice, I can tell he's starting to get irritated with my drama. "It was pretty funny."

"Screw it," I say turning around to walk away. "Go find some other bimbo to make Cho jealous."

"Alex!" Harry says angrily, running to me and stopping right in my path. "Would you cut that out!"

"Make me!" I tell him and start walking around him.

"Cut the shit, Alex," he says. "Why is this bothering you so much?"

"Why?" I repeat. "Because I was just trying to help out my best friend and then you laugh at me and insult my ability to be a plausible date!"

"I didn't mean to," Harry said pacifyingly, stepping in front of me and forcing me to stop unless I want to run him down—which I'm tempted to do at that moment. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean to." He looks at me for a second, and I stare back, my arms crossed over my chest, trying to decide whether or not he's sincere.

"Forgive me?" he asks, putting on his most pitiful yet adorable expression, like a cute little lab puppy. He knows I can't resist "The Face" and I'm fighting to keep my face straight. It works for all of five seconds before I crack a smile and start giggling.

"Fine!" I laugh. "I forgive you!"

"Thank you!" Harry says, cracking a huge, ear-to-ear grin. He holds his arm out to me, like one of those chivalrous 19th century gentlemen, and says, "Now, Señorita, would you like to accompany me back up to the Tower?"

I giggle a little bit and take his arm as he leads me back to the Tower. So I have a plan. An entirely new plan with a completely different outcome if executed correctly, but a plan nonetheless. So as I basically hold Harry's hand, I push away this feeling, that weightless, walking-on-air sensation that I get around Harry. I push it out of my mind, to somewhere where I won't think about it. Somewhere where it won't get me.

Some people say that you can't run from your problems. That no matter how hard you try to ignore them or run away from them, they always catch up with you.

The way I see it, this may or may not to just that. But at the moment, I'm not thinking that far ahead. All I'm thinking right now is how best to keep it away.

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**_UPDATE 8/14/6:_ So, how'd you like it? Okay PLEEZ review. I know there are about three ppl who have me on their alerts and aren't reviewing. Even if it's just "oh, good chapter" that's something! I just want to know what ppl think of it. **

**So yeah... review. **

**Oh, and the Harry and the baby part has been moved somewhere. I haven't decided where yet, but it should be in either the next chapter, or a new chapter. Either way, that is my favorite flashback of the whole story so it _WON'T_, under any circumstances be taken out of the story. **

**Okay then. Thank you for checking out the new and improved third chapter, and I hope you enjoy!**

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**Okay, I finally made a decent sized chapter (I added alot of stuff i hadn't planned so I hope you like it). **

**Peace, Love and Granola Bars,**

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	3. Go Without Saying

**_UPDATE 8/12/06:_** **Okay, ALL NEW CHAPTER! teehee, i'm all atwitter with excitement. **

**So, I realize that this is quite the flashback, what with it spanning a chapter and a half. But the end of this chapter is the end of this flashback, and the old chapter three is the new chapter four. **

**Alrighty then, I hope you enjoy the new chapter! **

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**Chapter 3: Go Without Saying**

I decided to start with Harry's dancing problem, because to be completely honest, Harry wasn't kidding when he said he couldn't dance. I did a little evaluation on him, just to see what I was working with, and let's just say the words "spastic," "uncoordinated," and "flailing" came up often. And I'd be damned before I made a fool out of myself after taking ballroom dancing lessons since the age of six.

So I told Harry to come by the Room of Requirement about three times a week until the ball. Harry grudgingly agreed, seeing as I let it slip about the lessons to Dom, who told Ron, who told Seamus, who told Dean, resulting in Harry becoming the token metrosexual of the Gryffindor Boys' dorms. But despite Harry's bruised, homophobic male ego, I didn't let up. If Harry was going to make _anyone_ jealous, he'd have to have smooth moves on the dance floor. Otherwise, it'd just prove to Cho that she made the right choice about her date, because the alternative was a bumbling moron who looked like an uncoordinated nincompoop.

So the night of the first practice finally rolled around. The practice was set to start at seven pm, so I got there at six thirty to set up and and get everything ready. So I climbed about a zillion stairs to the seventh floor corridor, then followed the precise directions to get in, given to me by Harry's little house elf friend, Dobby (funny story...back then, and even now actually, Dobby couldn't seem to correctly pronounce 'Alexandria' and refused to call me Alex because he said it was too informal, so he'd always refer to me as "Pretty Lady." It used to piss Hermione off so bad. Ah, good times...). Anyway, I walk back and forth across the barren stretch of wall three times, as instructed, each time intently thinking, _I need a studio, just like the one at home, so I can teach Harry to dance..._

After the third pass, I looked back and a painted-white metal door, identical to the one to the studio at home, had appeared. I juggled the handle the way I'd perfected over the years, and it swung open, just like the door at home.

Inside it was almost exactly the same, except for the fact that everything was brand new and clean. The walls were pristine, free of dirty fingerprints, and the room smelt of a fresh coat of deep peachy tan paint, the same color as home. The mirrors were void of any smudges or handprints or scratches and the floors were newly waxed and all the familiar dents and scuffs were gone. There was even the two white fold-out chairs in the corner, one bearing a stack of CDs and a boom-box--even that had been upgraded to a top of the line, sleek, futuristic looking thing that I half-expected to be able to fly and give me stock quotes--and the other chair bearing leg warmers--hey! No laughing, they are very comfy and they keep my legs warm!--a pair of cheer shorts and a matching turquoise hoodie, with my strappy dancing heels set nicely on the floor, the way my teacher always used to do it.

I readjusted the bag I was carrying on my shoulder, and stepped in, taking a deep breath of the familiar lemony scent of the floor clean. I picked out a song suitable for the dance all the champions where supposed to do, which was, naturally, the waltz, and changed and prepared everything.

A knock came at the door and I yelled, "Come in!"

Harry tried to turn the knob, but obviously wasn't as talented a jiggler as I was. So I ran to the door--in heels no less, and I didn't trip, so you should all be very proud of me, since I'm extremely clumsy--and opened it for him.

"Hey," I said, smiling breathlessly. He looked so good, his hair all messy and long and in his eyes, and that smirky smile, where he turned up one side of his mouth and just a sliver of his teeth are visible. My god, I'm surprised I didn't faint on spot. "Right on time."

"Didn't want to be late," Harry says, coming in as he took in the studio. "We have a lot of work to do."

"I'll say," I laugh. "Now this is really important to our mission. Dancing is the way to a girl's heart. Screw diamonds, if you can sweep her off her feet on a dance floor, you'll have her instantly. Now, Viktor and Fleur are going to have an advantage: I heard that McGonagall provided them with dance teachers, while letting us fend for ourselves."

"How is that fair?" Harry asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Because," I explain, "they're our guests, Harry. We have to treat them with the utmost respect. Besides, we're fine. I've been doing ballroom since I was six."

"Good, because I can't dance."

"So you've told me," I say, laughing. I hand him the dancing shoes. "Here, put these on and we'll get started."

Harry looked at the shoes like I was holding out a sack-full of steaming horse crap.

"Hell no," Harry says flatly, almost laughing at the absurdity of that suggestion.

"And why not?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and setting my hands on my hips.

"Because they're ugly," Harry whines like a little kid, throwing out his bottom lip in a huge pout.

"Harry," I say pacifyingly, the same tone I use with my little cousins when I'm trying to negotiate with them, "the shoes have really good cushion, which you need when you're dancing. If you don't wear them, you won't be able to walk around for a week."

Harry's still pouting like a little boy who's being forced to take a bath.

"Fine, Harry," I say, laughing as I carry the dance shoes back to the fold out chairs. "When you realize that you need them, let me know."

"Fine by me."

I laugh again. This is _not_ going to be easy.

* * *

Finally, the night of the Yule Ball was upon us. I'd been getting ready pretty much all afternoon, picking up my dress from Artimus, my owl, who'd been carrying it all the way from California (let's just say he got a very big treat for that), airing it out and getting the creases out from it being in the packaging, then showering for what seemed like forever, using a teeth whitening potion, and a lot more stuff that I won't bore you with. 

I look at myself in the mirror, examining myself from every angle. This is my absolute favorite dress: the top is a deep salmony pink silk with silver lace covering it, then the bottom is the material of tutus but not nearly as poufy with a built in lace slip underneath so the material doesn't rub. It falls to just above the floor, just short enough to reveal my silver stiletto sandals (say that five times fast). I loosely curled my hair, and then pulled it into a low side ponytail. I tucked a few hairpins in here and there to pull the majority of the strands that didn't make it into the hair elastic, but I left a couple around my face loose.

I look at all the silver accessories that I've laid out on my dresser. I'm definitely bringing my silver clutch, because I need to carry a few things with me. Plus it's the exact same silver as my dress _and _my shoes, so it would be coming even if I wasn't going to carry anything. I look over the rest. A silk lily, a few chunky bangles, some chains, miscellaneous chandelier earrings in different styles and sizes, a charm bracelet, a ribbon and cocktail ring with an oversized rock—fake, of course.

I decide the silver lily is good, so I stick in my hair, above my right ear, positioning it just right before securing it with hairpins. Earrings are a must, so I pick out a simple pair and put them in. I pick out two different bangles, which are painted silver, and slip both of them on the same wrist. And I love the cocktail ring so I slip that on too.

I take one final look in the mirror, and, deciding I look perfect, go to the door, but Hermione's in the doorway. She has her hair all done, but she's still in a button down shirt (so she doesn't mess up her hair when she takes it off to put her dress on) and cheer shorts.

"Oh my gosh," I say in awe, smiling at how beautiful Hermione's hair looks. "'Mione, your hair looks amazing! Who did it?"

"Cut the crap, Alex," she snaps at me. "I need to talk to you."

"Okay..." I say slowly and I walk to my bed and sit on the edge, and Hermione takes a seat on her bed, directly across the isle from me.

"Ron told me what your doing with Harry," Hermione says sternly. I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn't, as though I'm supposed to know exactly what she's talking about.

"And he said...?" I ask.

"Don't play dumb," Hermione spits at me, narrowing her eyes. "He told me you're going to the Yule Ball with Harry, supposedly to make Cho jealous."

"Yeah..." I say, not catching her point at all. "So...?"

_"So,"_ Hermione continue snippily, "I know what your up to."

"Oh yeah?" I retort. I'm so over her bitchy attitude. "And why don't you fill me in on that?"

"You're trying to take advantage of Harry and try to take him for yourself," she says. I just look at her incredulously.

"What are you on?" I ask. "Harry's my best friend and I care about him a lot. I'm doing this for him."

"Like hell you are," Hermione says, rolling her eyes. "It's plain as day to see you like him, Alex." She jus looks at me for a few seconds, like she's waiting for me to deny it. I don't. I simply stare back at her with a look that clearly says, "Yeah? What's your point?"

"It's also obvious," Hermione continues,"that he doesn't feel the same way, seeing as he's always pining after Cho--"

"I get it, Hermione," I say abruptly, cutting her off. I roll my eyes at her, like she couldn't possibly understand, then get up. I pace around the floor for a second, gathering my thoughts, then stop and look at her. "I get it. I get that Harry doesn't reciprocate and no amount of waiting... or wishing is going to change that. Unfortunately, it doesn't make me love him any less."

"Alex, you're fourteen," Hermione says dismissively, reminding me reminiscently of my mother. "What do you know about love?"

"Don't you dare tell me what I can and can't feel," I tell her, my voice dangerously low. "Don't you think I've told myself that? That I'm too young to feel this strongly about someone? Love doesn't accept logic, Hermione! You can't analyze it like that... cleanly cutting love and hate like black and white." This was so frustrating that I have to pause just to be able to say what I mean. "My god, you just don't understand!"

"Don't act like you're so different from the rest of us," Hermione says angrily, standing up. "People experience rejection everyday."

"Jesus Christ, this isn't about that!" I snap at her. "This isn't about me being so much different from everyone else! I know people feel this everyday! That doesn't mean _you_ understand it!" She just looks at me. "Don't tell me you know what it's like to feel so strongly about some one that you feel like you might burst at the seams, and then wake up one day and realize that they see you an entirely different way! That they _don't_ get butterflies in their stomach when you say their name! That their heart _doesn't_ skip a beat when you smile at them! They they _don't_ dream about the two of you being together! That they _don't_ feel this overwhelming feeling that you can barely keep inside youand that it's completely one-sided!"

Hermione just looks at me sadly, and for a second I wonder if she really did understand.

"I really do love Harry," I tell her calmly. "And this isn't some elaborate conspiracy to tear him away from Cho. I know he doesn't love me. I just want him to be happy. And if he's happy with Cho, then it's my job is to help him get her."

Hermione smiles at me gently, as if to say good luck. I brush a ringlet out of my eyes, and return the smile. I know Hermione was only looking out for her friend. I gather up the bottom of my dress, to facilitate my descent down the stairs, and sweep out of the room.

After about a gazillion stairs and a near fatal trip that nearly sent me down the vast majority of Hogwarts's stairs, I finally make it down to the Entrance Hall where I'm supposed to meet Harry. I look around and spot him near the bottom of the stairs, leaning up against the wall, looking all non-chalant and whatnot. And cue the spinal shiver. He looks amazing. His hair is messy, as per usual, but it's definitely been well washed and had a comb run through it and he's in a clean black suit. Very nice.

Harry still hasn't noticed that I'm there. He isn't even looking my way. I look in the same direction as him, and discover that he's scoping out a certain black-haired Ravenclaw who's currently adjusting the tie of a certain blonde, good-looking Hufflepuff.

Cho looks beautiful tonight, I admit to myself bitterly. She's wearing one of those Asian looking kimono style dresses in pale yellow silk with black trim and cap sleeves. Her sleek dark hair is pulled back into a bun, secured by two black and hold chopsticks, with a small tress falling in her face.

I swallow hard and force down the lump that's forming in my throat. Stop it, I tell myself. Get a grip. He doesn't like you. Hoping he'll change his mind and suddenly love me doesn't mean it'll happen.

I keep stepping down the stairs toward Harry, who's finally starting to look around for me. But he doesn't see me. He looks at the couple directly to my left, but doesn't see me. I go down a few more steps and he looks at a girl right in front of me and still doesn't see me. Is my transformation really that miraculous that Harry doesn't even recognize me? I keep walking toward him, but he's not even paying attention. So I end up standing right in front of him before he even notices I'm there.

I step right in front of him, and he looks at me for a second like he doesn't know it's me. Then suddenly, in a wave (forget it, more like a tsunami) of realization, his eyes get really wide and his jaw hits the floor.

_"Alex?"_ Harry asks, gaping at me like I had a body transplant. "Oh my god. You look... _amazing!_"

I can't help but smile, even though I feel mildly insulted. Was I that ugly before?

"Thanks," I say, not really knowing what else there is to say.

Fortunately McGonagall come's in at that exact moment.

"All champions and dates please report to me immediately!" she shouts to the entire hall.

"That's our cue," I say. I lower my voice to a whisper and add, "Take my hand."

Harry nods, still looking a little shell-shocked from my appearance, and does as he's told. He knows I'm not trying to boss him around, and that my orders are strictly for Cho-catching.

As we walk toward McGonagall, I spot Cho and Cedric coming too, the two of them looking quite smitten, all smiles and giggles. From the opposite direction, I spot Fleur and Roger Davies. Fleur looks exquisite, in a dress of deep red silk, with off the shoulder straps, with her hair pulled back in a elegant bun, and walking gracefully and proud. Roger, however, is wearing this dreamy, star-struck, goofy smile as he's so entranced by Fleur's beauty that he's barely managing to walk. And then I spot Krum, looking very handsome with his dark hair combed and sporting a tux, Hermione on his arm, looking magnificent. She's wearing a very light soft pink floaty gown that makes her look like a princess. I smile at her, and she smiles back, silently wishing me luck again.

"Okay, champions," McGonagall says, once we're all gathered around her. "The waltz you've all been practicing will be at the very beginning of the night, right now. I would the champions to get in a line by age, youngest first. Mr. Potter and Miss Moreno will be first, followed by Mr. Diggory and Miss Chang, then Madmoiselle Delacour and Mr. Davies, and last but not least Mr. Krum and Miss Granger.

We all file into order and some fancy entrance music comes on. McGonagall gives us a thumbs up and I put on my best smile and we go. Everyone's cheering and clapping and being generally merry. Once we're all on the dance floor, we get into our spots on the dance floor, with the crowd making a huge circle around us. We take the starting position and the music starts. The two of us start flawlessly, stepping at exactly the right time. _One_ two three… _one_ two three…

Harry's doing great. He really got the concept of the waltz, the classic fairy tale romance told through dance. The breaks are dramatic yet smooth and fluid, Harry holding firmly onto my hand as I twirl away. And he holds me perfectly, firmly but gently. If I'd had absolutely no non-platonic feelings for Harry, I'd be perfectly thrilled. But Harry's flippin' seducing me on the tamest ballroom dance. And that's something that freakin' pisses me off. I'm supposed to be the seductress.

Anyway so we all finish, and the crowd cheers loudly. Harry smiles widely and bows, barely able to contain his pride that he got through the dance without making any noticeable blunders, as I curtsy beside him. Then another slow song comes on and couples slowly file onto the floor to slow dance.

_There's a song that's inside of my soul, it's the one that I've tried to write over and over again_

"Let's keep dancing," I say quietly to Harry. "I have a feeling she's gonna watch us. Plus I love this song."

_I'm awake in the infinite cold, but you sing to me over and over and over again_

_So I lay my head back down, and I lift my hands and pray _

_To be only yours, I__ pray to be only yours_

_I know now you're my only hope_

Harry nods, chuckling, and I whisper a few instructions to him, such as "Put your hands on my waist," and "Alternate your weight from one foot to the other so you sway."

_Sing to me the song of the stars, of your galaxy dancing and laughing and laughing again_

_When it feels like my dream are so far, sing to me of the plans that you have for me over and over again_

He obeys, doing both of those. I have my arms wrapped over his shoulders, and he holds me close. His arms feel so good around me, like they just fit there. And I can smell _Fierce_ mingled with a scent that's all Harry. The combination is intoxicating.

_So I lay my head back down, and I lift my hands and pray_

_To be only yours, I pray to be only yours _

_I know now that you're my only hope_

Then, as though I'm being possessed by someone else, I rest my head on Harry's shoulder, shutting my eyes and smiling gently as we continue to sway back and forth. Every thing feels so right, like this was how it was meant to be. My _Hot_ perfume is mixing in with Harry's cologne and surprisingly it smells heavenly. You wouldn't think that since the two scents are so different, but it's perfect. Sweet and sexy mixed with spicy and tough. It's all good.

_I give you my destiny, I'm giving you all of me_

_I want your symphony singing in all that I am_

_At the top of my lungs I'm giving it back_

Suddenly, as I slip back into reality, I realize I may have crossed the line. I may have just totally blown my cover.

Fortunately, Harry rests his chin on top of my head, meaning that he just thinks I'm doing it for show. And cue the sigh of relief. _Un_fortunately, this just making me more ga-ga for him. I'm suddenly thinking about us, the non-plato-nic _us_. And, like the little horny chick I am, I'm fighting with every ounce of self-control I have to keep from pouncing on him and making out with him furiously, not caring one bit who was staring.

_So I lay my head back down, and I lift my hands and pray_

_To be only yours, I pray to be only yours, I pray to be only yours_

I force those thoughts out of my head. All I'm doing is leading myself on. Harry loves Cho, not me. And that's not about to change because I suddenly threw on a dress and some make up.

_I know now you're my only hope..._

"Alex," Harry says, pulling back to look at me in the eye, ending a moment that I wanted to last forever. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure," I say, nodding my head. He waits a second, looking at me expectantly.

"Outside?" Harry adds.

"Now?" I ask, confused. I casually glance over at Cho, who's eyeing us scrutinizingly. "But she's looking right at us. You could miss your chance."

"It can wait, Lex," he tells me. I wrinkle up my brow in confusion. He just smiles at me, like I'll understand in a second.

He grabs my hand and leads me through the crowd towards the entrance hall. I sneak a furtive glance at Cho and see that she's watching us unabashedly, openly staring with her jaw at the floor. I look at Harry to see if he sees Cho. But he's not even _glancing_ at her. He either has a _lot _self-control, or has completely lost sight in the point of tonight.

Once we're in the hallway, I suddenly have this strange feeling, like a vibe, and I have an overwhelmingly bad feeling about this right in my chest. I fight the urge to run from the room. Harry lets go of my hand and just looks at me for a second, saying nothing. I look at him expectantly.

"What is it?" I ask him, that bad feeling starting to grow.

"I have to talk to you," Harry says.

"You said that already," I say, looking from one of his eyes to the other.

"Yeah," he says, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I know."

He looks a little nervous. Like what he's got to say is something really important.

"Harry, what is it?" I ask concernedly. "Is it your scar again?"

"No it's not that," he says, massaging his eyes.

"Is it something about Voldemort?" I ask.

"No," he says, looking a little fidgety. "Gosh, I'm sorry."

"Harry, what _is_ it?" I ask, frustrated that he's not telling me. "You can tell me anything."

"I just don't know how to say it," he mutters.

"Then just blurt it out," I say quietly. "Just _tell_ me."

Harry looks at me, like he just can't find the words. I look down at my feet for a second and when I look back up there's less than a foot between us. That bad feeling drops right out of my chest and into the pit of my stomach as it reaches critical mass. I swallow hard, forcing down the lump in my throat, and Harry doesn't seem to be retreating any time soon.

I feel this strange magnetic sensation somewhere deep in my chest, pulling me toward Harry. I've wanted this for such a long time that I feel myself completely giving in. Then he reaches his hand up to my face to brush a few loose tendrils out of my face, and I nearly melt on the spot.

Then, once we're about an inch apart, a big alarm goes off in my head. _RED ALERT!_ says my self-preservation programming I'd put into active duty since I was little. _DON'T DO IT!_ I suddenly realize just what I'm doing and spring back.

"You know," I say breathlessly, stepping back from him, "you make it awfully hard to be your friend when you pull shit like that."

"_Lex," _Harry groans, closing his eyes and grabbing my arm before I can walk away from him.

"No!" I snap at him, yanking my arm from his grasp. "Don't you 'Lex' me! What the _hell_ was that!"

"You told me to just tell you!" Harry yells at me. "I didn't know how to tell you, and I thought that would go without saying!"

"Oh did you?" I ask angrily. "Well please explain it to me, because I think I must've missed that!"

"You want me to explain it! Fine! Here it goes! I _like_ you a hell of a lot! In fact I think I'm in love with you!"

Well blow me over. I just stand there, looking at him with my eyes wide and my mouth hanging agape—geez, I must look gorgeous right now. I feel like someone just kicked me in the stomach and I just don't know what to say. I don't know whether to pounce on him, like before, or to run away or tell him that I feel the same or to just keep standing there.

"Huh?" I say stupidly.

"I… love…you," Harry says slowly and emphatically—the way you'd speak to someone who doesn't know English very well—as he looks directly into my eyes and takes my hands and holds them tightly. "What part that's hard to understand?" I just look at him for a second, like that's the stupidest question I've ever heard.

"All of it!" I tell him, slipping my hands out of his and taking a step back. "Like the fact that we're supposed to be here making Cho jealous!"

"Yeah that's what I thought," Harry said quickly, "but then you showed up here, looking…" he paused, staring at me like only a guy can as he searched for the right word, "_phenomenal_ and I enjoyed tonight so much and I realized that I don't care about Cho."

"Harry, that doesn't mean a six foot high pile of dragon shit!" I tell him.

"And why not?" Harry asks me.

"Because half of your criteria for being in love is the fact that we had a fun time tonight! We _always_ have a good time! That's not anything special! And the other half of you criteria is that I'm suddenly beautiful! My god, Harry, how shallow _are_ you? Is that all you cared about? How pretty I was? How pretty Cho was? You looked heartbroken when she said she was going with Cedric, and then, just because I threw on a dress and some heels and did my hair and make up, you're suddenly in love with me?"

"Alex, it's not like that!" Harry shouts defensively.

"THEN TELL ME WHAT IT'S LIKE!" I scream at him, and just stare at him, my eyes burning a little. I don't know how much more I can take of this when everything that comes out of his mouth just rips my heart out a little bit more. Harry just looks at me, a little taken aback.

"I've always loved you," Harry says quietly as I fight the urge to cry. "And you've always been beautiful. Ever since I first met you on the train, I had a huge crush on you."

"Then what are we doing here?" I ask him angrily, now crying freely. "Why did you put me throught this! All night I've been watching you, knowing all this was an act! Knowing that you felt none of this and that all you saw in me was your frump-girl best friend, who happened to look slightly decent tonight! God Harry! Don't you know what it's like to watch someone you feel so crazy over talk about or look at another person the way you do to them! Every single fucking time I listened to you talk about Cho or look at her like you'd give anything to have her, it'd feel like my heart was getting just a little more squished inside my chest!" I put my right hand on my heart for dramatic effect. I look at him and he's just looking right back at me. My voice is getting constricted, and I add, with my squeaky, strangled voice, "Don't you even care?"

"Goddammit, Alex, of course I care!" he says, desperately trying to explain. "But you hold everyone at arms length! You never let your guard down! No one can ever get close enough to you to really find out what you feel!" I just look at him, and tears silently spill over my eyes. "You were so distant that I thought you hated me! Then by the time we became friends, you flirted with everyone so I pretty much knew that you didn't feel the same. So I forced myself to get over you. And Cho was fairly pretty, a seeker, interesting and she seemed like she was interested." He pauses, just looking at me. "But then I saw you tonight, wearing that dress and your hair done up and make up fixed. Lex, you're always beautiful, but tonight I just couldn't fight it. And when you rested your head on my shoulder and I could smell your shampoo and your perfume, and everything just felt like… like everything that had happened with us had led up to that. I just knew that I had to at least take a chance. Because that," he says, taking my hands again, "is the only way you'll ever be happy. Because to get it all you have to risk it all.

"So," Harry says. "Are you willing to risk it all?"

I just look at him. I've dreamed about a moment like this every night for almost three years, and about the perfect movie ending kiss we'd have after the typical confession of love. But this… it isn't real. It can't be. It's too perfect. He said everything right. He's holding my hands just right. He's looking at me just right.

Then I think, well, maybe that's why it's so perfect. Because it's not a dream I used to get me by. It's perfect because it's real, because it's happening.

So I know what I want to say. But not how to say it. So I do what we do when we can't find the words.

I take a step towards Harry, and I'm so close I can see every speck of green in his eyes, each a slightly varying facet. I reach up my hand and brush his bangs out of his eyes with my fingertips, trailing my fingernails along his scalp. I stand up on my tip-toes and slowly lean in. And this time, I'm not backing out.

Also, this time, when we kiss, there's no explanation needed. Some things just go without saying.

* * *

**Aw, how cute...**

**Hope you liked it! Much Love to cookiedoughmunchkin, my newest reviewer, and to sum nox, my homey-g (no idea what that means, but if it happens to mean something dirty, sum nox, darling, i don't mean it that way!), and to Saher, my chica! **

**Oh, and that song that Alex and Harry slow danced to is called "Only Hope" and if you've never seen "A Walk To Remember" then you should, because this song is from that movie, sung by Mandy Moore (aka Jamie Sullivan). Btw, I just watched that movie on Saturday for the first time and it was one of the best movies EVER! Anyone who hasn't seen it should IMMEDIATELY! I cried like a baby! **

**LOVE YOU ALL!**

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	4. Giving Harry What He Needs

**Ok i lied. I didn't realize that i'd get such a small amount of hw this week, so i decided to oblige you all with a lovely new installment of my story.**

**Okay this one is shorter but frankly the only way i could make it longer is by stuffing it with useless boring fluff and i thought i'd spare u. so anyway, pleez review! i have only _2 _reviews and frankly i'm starting to get discouraged. get off your keisters and review already!**

**okay sry got carried away. anyway, enjoy.**

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_UPDATE 8/14/6:_ I added the bit about Harry and the baby to the beginning. You might want to read through it.

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**Chapter 4: Giving Harry What He Needs**

I drop both my hands back to my stomach and the tears continue to pour down my cheeks. I'm being stupid and I know it. Harry is going to be thrilled. He's been wanting a baby recently. About four or five months ago, we went for a walk in the park together and we saw this adorable young married couple with a four year old little girl with ambery brown hair and her little brother who was just learning to walk. I couldn't help but smile, it was such a sweet scene. I looked at Harry and I could see him staring longingly at them. Like that was what he wanted more than anything.

Later that night, we were in bed (just cuddling, geez, don't wet yourself from excitement), my head resting on his shoulder with his arm around me, and he looks at me and says, "What did you think about that?"

I immediately know what he's talking about. He'd been in a sort of daze ever since the walk. I look up at him.

"I think they're sweet. It's always nice to see two people who love each other that much." Harry gives me this look. "Besides us," I add chuckling. He smiles.

"I meant..." he pauses. "Never mind."

I prop myself up and look at him sternly, though he knows I'm just joking.

"Please don't do that, you know it bugs me. Just tell me."

"Okay, okay," he says smiling. He pauses, then continues softly, "I meant what do you think about getting us some of those?"

I look in his eyes, hoping he means something else.

"You mean... a baby?"

He smiles. "Yeah, why not?"

"For starters, we're not even married," I said, sitting up. "And we don't have any money either."

"We'd get by on love," Harry said, smiling goofily as he sits up with me. "And as far as the marriage problem goes, who's fault is that, hmm? I've already asked you before, five times is it?"

"Harry, it's been more like a dozen. And besides," I whine, "it wouldn't be safe. What if Voldemort finds out?"

"Yeah, because he'll be the first to get an invitation," he responds sarcastically. I look at him sternly. "Alex, stop it. We'd keep it a secret. No one would know."

"Harry, don't be naive. He has spies everywhere. Aside from my family, the Order and the Weasleys, I don't know who to trust anymore!"

He takes me in his arms and I rest against his strong chest, not ever wanting him to let me go. He strokes my hair and my back, soothing me.

"Is that why you don't want to?" he says in barely more than a whisper. "Because of the war?"

I pull back to look him in the eye. My eyes start to tear up.

"If we did have a baby, and something happened to it because of Voldemort, I don't know if I could live with myself."

He pulls me back into his arms and I cry on his shoulder.

"Shhhh," he says quietly, stroking my hair. "Alex, I understand. It's okay. We can wait."

"I love you," I whisper.

"I love you, too."

But I knew that he still wanted a baby. Over the next two or three months, every time we walked past a stroller or saw parents playing in the park with their kids, he'd get really quiet and he'd be in a sort of trance where he didn't really listen or respond to anyone. I began to feel like I was asking to much of him. I mean, Harry grew up for eleven years without any true family or friends and now that we were able to have kids, I was depriving him of it. I felt like Harry was going the extra mile like your supposed to in a relationship to prove that you really love that person, but I wasn't.

I was determined to prove that Harry was the most important thing to me. And then I remembered what Abuelita used to tell me: "If you really love someone, you'll give them whatever they need, no matter what."

I knew what Harry needed.

Over the next week and a half I forgot to remind Harry to use the Contraceptive Charm (okay, okay, its EXACTLY what your thinking now) and I've been doing it every so often now so Harry doesn't get too suspicious. But now I've given him what he wanted. I'm having a baby. And I always wanted to have kids. So why I am so upset?

Harry shifts in his sleep and his bangs move around on his face. My eyes travel to his forehead, tracing his scar with my eyes.

Maybe that's why.

Harry grunts and stirs. It makes me jump, but he stays asleep. One good thing about Harry is he sleeps like a rock.

This allows me to settle back into back into my worries. Like I was saying, for all the rational reason I can think of, I should be happy, not to mention thrilled.

But I'm not.

I'm worried and I'm scared and I feel like shit and I really want some coffee but I can't have any. I'm worried and I'm scared, firstly, because I'm the farthest thing from a good mom.

I have killed a good number of hamsters, goldfish and guinea pigs in my day. Babies cry when I hold them and no one ever hired me for babysitting. In fact, the only time I babysat for anyone, it ended badly.

I sigh as I flashback to when I left my niece and nephew, Cristina and Enrique, at the park accidentally when they were babies and they were there for two hours by themselves before I realized they were gone. Even worse, the reason I forgot them there was because this hot guy came up to me and told me how pretty I was (I'm a major sucker for flattery) and one thing lead to another and before I knew it I was out to lunch with him at a restaurant and Cristina and Enrique weren't with me. I rushed back to the park and fortunately I found them right where I'd left them.

Let's just say my sister didn't let me babysit again for a while.

But I know these are normal worries for a first time mom, even if i can't supress the feeling that I'm gonna be a horrible mom. I, however, have a rational reason to fear for my child's life.

My eyes travel to Harry's scar again. I trace it and a pang of terror strikes my stomach. I know I'm being silly. After all, it's only a scar. No, I tell myself, it's not just a scar. It's the symbol and the source of all my worries.

I know Harry's the only one who can save us all, but I can't help but wish it could've been someone else. Everyday, Harry goes out there, looking for Horcruxes, and everyday I'm afraid I'll never see him again. When he goes on long excursions to look for them, I don't sleep. I barely eat. I have a constant nervous stomach. I fear every phone call, every owl, and every knock at the door, because I'm afraid it'll bring news of his death. He says he's careful and he'd never do anything dangerous that isn't entirely necessary, and I know he means it. But how safe can you really be when Voldemort could be around every turn?

This is my greatest fear about my baby. Voldemort's not above using leverage to get at Harry and then killing them once they've served their purpose. Despite my fears and worries and despite the fact that I'm really rethinking the whole thing about Harry and the baby, I've always wanted to be a mother and I'm always going to love my baby. I want it to live a safe and happy and fulfilling life. That's something I can't guarantee as long as Voldemort and his psychotic followers are still alive.

Suddenly, all new concerns crop up in my head. First of all, we're broke. Even with me working two jobs and Harry's small fortune left from his parents, I make next to nothing in both jobs and Harry is training to be an Auror when he isn't chasing Voldemort. Babies cost so much money, and frankly we don't have much of it.

And then I think of Abuelita. Now I'm really disappointed in myself. I know she will be. I know Abuelita will help me through this in any way she can and she'll never stop loving me. But she wanted better than this for me. She wanted me to establish my career and earn money and get settled... or maybe just married, I think bitterly, that definitely would have been a good start.

I get up out of my chair with my half empty cup of tea and slip silently toward the door, so as to make the least amount of noise possible. I don't want to wake Harry. I'll tell him tonight. Let him sleep for just a little longer before life throws a reality brick at him. I know he'll need it. Because I'll give Harry whatever he needs, no matter the cost.

That's a dangerous thought.

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**okay now repeat after me:**

**"I WILL REVIEW MYSTRYMOVIEBRUNETTE'S STORY BECAUSE SHE REALLY LIKES REVIEWS AND I WON'T SIMPLY PUT 'IT'S GOOD, KEEP GOING!' BECAUSE THAT OFFERS HER NO FEEDBACK AT ALL. I WILL PUT EXACTLY WHAT I LIKED ABOUT THE CHAPTER AND WHAT MMB CAN IMPROVE ON, AND I WILL LIKE IT!"**

**thank you. new chapter will be up shortly. **

**Peace, Love, Granola bars, and all that jazz,**

**mmb**


	5. There Must Be Something In The Water

Okay, if anyone was like really desperate for this update, a million apologies, but my original write up of this one was really weird so I had to tweak it. Not to mention I've been trying to get to bed earlier cuz my Media Arts teacher has been riding my ass about my tardies. Not to mention getting to school earlier gives me plenty of time to boy scout...

Woops. Got a little carried away. Just read it already.

_UPDATE 8/14/6:_ the button for the ruler is being tempermental so I'm just gonna write it like this.

This chapter pretty much stayed the same. Look through it if you like.

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**Chapter Five: There Must Be Something In T****he Water**

I reach for the closet door knob, and slowly turn it. I look back at Harry to make sure he hasn't woken up, and suddenly I can't look away.

I tell myself that I'm being silly and that it's just Harry. But I don't want to look away. He intruiges me. It's ennerving that one person can invoke all these opposite yet connected feelings at once. It's a little scary, to be honest. He could leave me at any moment and I'd be left broken. I guess that's what's so great about it: I know he won't.

I shake my head. I have to get out of here right now. I can't keep looking at him. It's only getting me worked up.

Work. There we go. Something productive to get my mind off all this baby business. I take a moment to figure out which job needs more catching up in... there's definitely been more build up at the Ministry lately. I should get some stuff done there.

I pull open my drawer, grab some sweatpants and a t-shirt and throw them on. I look in the mirror and just pull my hair into a ponytail because I don't want to mess with it. After all, the only people I'm likely to encounter at the Ministry this early don't really give a flying fuck how I wear my hair. I step into some Ugg slippers and head down to the kitchen for a piece of toast. I quickly butter it and, with one last nostalgic glance at the cappuccino maker, I apparate to the Ministry.

I arrive outside the entrance in the freezing cold. I take a bite of my toast and the overpowering tase of butter makes me gag. Not suprising. I _am_ pregnant, and things are supposed to taste weird... I think. I guess it just comes with the territory of being a witch. Magical pregnancies come with much more powerful symptoms than with Muggles (take my word for it, when my sister was pregnant she would complain, and I kid you not, that her lettuce would make her nauseous).

I step into the phone booth-like entrance entrance and wave my badge under the sensor. An obnoxiously cheerful voice says, "Good morning, Alexandria Moreno."

Good? What the hell is so good about it? I just found out I'm six weeks pregnant with my boyfriend's baby but I can't be happy about it, I have a mountanous pile of crap on both my desks (one here at the Ministry, one in my classroom), and worst of all I now can't eat my breakfast.

"Shut up," I mutter under my breath.

The booth descends into the floor. As it starts I get that weightless feeling in my stomach and I suddenly wish I hadn't drank so much tea. It's now sloshing around in my stomach, making me nauseous.

I exit the booth and walk to the front desk. I look through the my mailbox (which is annoyingly called a post box in Britian. Gross.) and grab the contents. I walk toward another elevator, opposite the entrance, and press the round 5 button. The doors slide together and I get that same 0 gravity feeling as before in my stomach as the elevator decends to my floor. With a ding and a swish of opening doors, I step off the elevator and walk down the hallway towards my office.

I find my door, pull the key from my purse and open the door. I toss my purse onto one of the guest chairs and look in my inbox. There is an alarming amount of new reports: five item memory extractions have to be performed, there are eight new alleged felons who have to be Legimented and the department's found two new anchors.

My job at the Ministry is simple: I use my Seer abilities to help catch Voldemort and his followers. An item memory extraction is pretty simple in theory: when certain spells are done in range of certain objects they trigger the item to store audio/visual stimula, aka memories. The spells that range from Alohomora to the Unforgivable Curses, but all of them have one thing in common: though the intended effect of the spell foes only where you aim your wand, these spells give off energy waves and when the hit certain metallic objects they cause memory withholding. Then Legimentations are pretty self-explanitory: I have to search people's minds for memories and see if they have any incriminating memories. And anchors are objects that have special, unknown powers that are currently being studied in the Department of Mysteries. But finding out how they work and what makes them tick isn't my job.

The only thing wizards do know about anchors is that they often cause Seers to have visions and every once in a lifetime they even cause prophecies.

I'm surprised that they confirmed two anchors in a matter of two days. I'm not too excited though; if they pushed those through so quickly the chances of them very effective, let alone even authentic, are pretty slim.

I look over the item memory extractions first, because memory quality deteriorates relatively fast, and anchors retain their power for thousands of years and the felons have nowhere to empty their throughts so I'm pretty sure that it'll stay in their heads.

I have to get clearance for the extraction and I need to book a safe room for it. I go to grab a form from the top left hand drawer, but it's empty. I check my center drawer and then all my other drawers and then my filing cabinet (here's yet another reason people like me shouldn't be allowed to reproduce: I can't stay organized to save my life) and I still can't find any.

I get up and look out my doorway down towards Ginny's office. Her light is on, so I walk down there to ask for some more clearance forms.

I turn the knob and it opens up to reveal Dominik and Ginny on her desk. They are furiously making out, Dom's shirt has somehow found it's way onto the floor, along with Ginny's shirt and jeans, and her legs are tightly wrapped around Dominik. I guess they haven't noticed me because Dom's still working at Ginny's bra.

I roll my eyes, not because I think it's gross to see my brother fornicating with one of my best friends, but because the pair of them are so sex crazed (and it's not from lack of activity, trust me. It seems like they more sex they have with each other, the more they want to have) that they can't even stop their at-work debauchery when I walk in on them.

"Hem, hem!" I clear my throat loudly and they finally spring off of each other. Ginny looks completely unphased, as though having her boyfriend's twin sister burst in on them is just part of their sexual routine, but Dominik looks annoyed and mildly surprised.

"Morning, Lex," Ginny says, sitting up properly on Dominik's desk as she flattens her shimmering red hair.

"G'morning, Gin," I say, a chuckle in my voice. I love how calm Ginny is about this, unlike Dom.

"Alex!" Dom shouts as he starts to put his shirt back on.

"Oh, Dom, there's no need to stop your little at-work sex party for me," I tell him, grabbing his shirt from him and helping it resume its original position on the floor.

"Can you knock?" Dom says indignantly. "In case you didn't notice we were kinda busy!"

I roll my eyes at him. I look around the room from the helter-skelter state of Ginny's desk, and the fact that Ginny's nearly naked, Dom's shirtless and his hair is stuck up in a million different directions.

"I noticed," I say wryly. "You really need to discover this fantastic new technology called a key. It's fabulous."

"I never walk in on you and Harry!" Dominik shouts as Ginny goes for her coffee maker in the corner.

"I have good enough sense to actually lock the door when me and Harry have sex at work," I state calmly. "And we have the decency to do an Imperturbable Charm so no one has to try to work with the sounds of us going at it in the background. No offense," I say, looking overat Ginny, as she scoops some coffee grounds into the filter, "but you're quite the screamer, doll."

"None taken," she says, again unphased. She looks into the coffee grounds bag. "Hey, Lexy, you want some?"

"Uh..." I stutter uncontrollably and I'm sure I'm turning red. "No thanks."

I turn back to Dom.

"Listen," I say, turning back to Dom, and suddenly, as a fill my lungs with the particularly strong aroma of coffee grounds, I'm getting that nauseated feeling in my stomach again. Suddenly the world is swirling around me, just a stream of colors and unintelligable shapes.

By a sheer miracle, I find my way into an adjacent armchair. I close my eyes, but it doesn't help much. I still feel like I'm on the Merry-Go-Round from hell.

"Alex!" I hear Dominik say from somewhere far away. The spinning slows, and I open my eyes as Dominik's face comes swimming into my range of view. "Esta bien?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, though a little to forcefully to be entirely believable.

"Alex, are you sure?" says Ginny's voice, and I suddenly realize she's to my left. Her voice and her blue eyes are filled with concern. "Are you feeling okay?"

_No, I'm pregnant! Is it that hard to figure out?_ I want to shout at the two of them. But I don't. I can't.

"Guys, I'm fine," I say, brushing it off and smiling, though it feels forced. Hopefully it doesn't look it. "Gin, I just came here to ask for some clearance forms."

"I don't have any," she says, though I can tell she's eager to get back on topic. I don't give her the chance.

"Okay, then, I'll ask Hermione if she has any," I say, standing up and forcing myself to stay upright, even though the floor is still gently swaying like the deck of a ship. "Thanks anyway."

I walk out of her office and down the hall but I can hear Dom coming out after me.

"Lexy!" he calls after me. I stop and turn around.

"Are you okay?" Dom asks.

"You already asked me that," I tell him, sounding more irritated than I'd intended. "I said I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Really?" he asks again. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

"Dominik, you're starting to sound like Mama," I say, forcing myself to laugh.

"Alex, I mean it." I can tell by the look in his eyes he does.

"I'm fine," I lie.

Dom pulls me into one of those brotherly hugs, the really good ones that make you all fuzzy and warm inside.

"Take care of yourself, Lex." He walks back to Ginny's office.

I walk to Hermione's office and the light is on there too. I knock this time, but get no answer. I open the door and I can't see anyone.

"Hello?" I say, wondering where on earth Hermione is.

Suddenly Ron's head pops up from behind Hermione's desk, his muscular shoulders bare.

"Morning, Alex," Ron says, sounding cheerful and following in Ginny's attitude of complete unphasedness.

"Morning," I say, amused, though I'm still a little confused. "Hermione wouldn't happen to be there with you, would she?"

Just then Hermione's head, her hair mussed, and her bare shoulders appear next to Ron. I crack up.

"There must be something in the water here."

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**Just so all you all know there should be an accent mark on the 'a' in 'Esta' but unfortunately the document manager doesn't have that function. So ya. Remember to review and whatnot.**

**Peace, Love and Granola Bars,**

**MMB**


	6. Changing The Subject

**Ok, ok I know y'all are getting impatient so I'll oblige and give you this new chapter.**

**I want to dedicate this to a someone who shall remain nameless (not sure why I'm not telling u the name, it's not like he'd find this site anyway. O well, better safe than sorry...) who is currently the love of my life. Haha just joking, but i must say that he is hot beyond reason (his smile makes my stomach flip over) and he's really awesome. **

**Anyway, enjoy darlings.**

**_UPDATE 8/14/6:_ Nothing new in this chapter. Look through for a refresher if you like.**

**

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**

_In The Previous Chapter..._

_I walk to Hermione's office and the light is on there too. I knock this time, but get no answer. I open the door and I can't see anyone._

_"Hello?" I say, wondering where on earth Hermione is._

_Suddenly Ron's head pops up from behind Hermione's desk, his muscular shoulders bare._

_"Morning, Alex," Ron says, sounding cheerful and following in Ginny's attitude of complete unphasedness._

_"Morning," I say, amused, though I'm still a little confused. "Hermione wouldn't happen to be there with you, would she?"_

_Just then Hermione's head, her hair mussed, and her bare shoulders appear next to Ron. I crack up._

_"There must be something in the water here."_

**Chapter 6: Changing The Subject**

"What do you mean?" Hermione says, moving around in a way that indicates she's probably getting dressed.

"I mean I just walked in on Dominik and Ginny in quite a similar position," I say smiling. "I feel like I'm killing everyone's game this morning."

"Don't," Ron says, smiling cheekily as he pulls his pants on. "You had perfect timing. We were just finished."

I roll my eyes at Ron. He's like the non-twin older brother I never had.

"Oh, Hermione," I say, getting back on point. "Do you have any clearance forms?"

"Have you run out again?" Hermione asks as she pulls her shirt on. "I just gave you a hundred three weeks ago."

"I know, they've been sending every piece of crap with a slight magical tendency to me," I say with a wry chuckle. Hermione pulls on her jeans, and walks over to her filing cabinet and grabs a full manila folder full.

"Much appreciated," I say, smiling as I grab the papers.

"You two hungry?" Ron says, completing getting dressed by pulling his shirt on. "I'm gonna go to the bakery down the street."

"Yeah, can you get me a coffee and a doughnut?" Hermione responds

"Alex, you want anything?" Ron asks, pulling on his jacket. "Coffee? Bagel? Doughnut?"

"Um, no thanks," I say, blushing slightly again. What's wrong with me? Is it that hard to just say no?

"Are you sure?" Ron asks concernedly. "You look a little sick."

"Yeah, my stomach's bothering me," I say, not really lying. My stomach _is_ upset.

"Okay then," he says, turning to Hermione and giving her a swift kiss on the lips. "I'll be back."

"Hurry back," she tells him. He then Apparates away.

For a moment, her eyes linger on the spot he Apparated from. A smile creeps slowly (so slowly I can hardly tell when it began to form) onto her face, starting with her lips.

I sit down in Hermione's guest chair, giggling in spite of myself.

"You two are the cutest little married couple I've ever seen."

"Thanks," she says laughing. "Oh, and sorry you had to walk in on that."

"Oh it's not a problem," I say, brushing it off. "I just feel bad for barging in."

"Don't be silly, you weren't interrupting anything," she insists. "So how is everything?"

I respectfully accept her subject change, knowing it's not the most comfortable subject to talk about.

"Good."

"What's the new total for Harry?" she asks, chuckling.

"You mean the total proposals?" I ask, laughing with her. "I think we're getting close to nine now."

For a moment, we sit in silence, still with the smiles plastered across our faces at Harry's indominable desire to get me to marry him.

"You know, Lex," Hermione says, suddenly looking serious. "Maybe one of these times you should mix it up a bit."

I look at her, confused.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Why don't you just marry the poor fellow?"

I look at her, seriously considering that possibility.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because," I insist. I look at her, hoping that we can leave it at that. Unfortunately, there's no suck luck. She gives me this look that says 'elaborate or I _will_ force it out of you.' "Because I'm protecting Harry. As it is I'm already at risk for becoming leverage, but no more than you and Ron and Dom and Ginny. If Voldemort thinks we're in a mostly sex relationship, then he's less likely to come after me to get to Harry. A wedding... well, the whole point of a wedding is to tell the world that you and your partner to be together forever. That's not the message I want to send Voldemort. It'll be too tempting for him not to tear us apart."

I let that sentence hang for a second and then add, "So how are things with you and Ron?"

"We're good," she says, fidgeting with her wedding band. That's one thing that's great about Hermione (amongst many others): she's great at sensing when I need a subject change. "We finally put an offer on that house in Hogsmeade, and we're pretty confident that they'll take it."

"That's great!" I tell her, genuinely excited for her. Hermione's had her heart set on that quaint little cottage. "Now you guys can come visit us up at Hogwarts all the time!"

"Yeah, we're really excited," she says beaming. "Speaking of Hogwarts, how are your kids?"

I jump at the words "your kids," but calm down when I realize that she's talking about my students.

"They're doing good," I say. "My NEWT level students keep getting stuck on memory extractions, though."

"No better teacher than you then, eh?" Hermione smirks.

"Damn straight," I say, joking. "So anyway, my OWL level kids are so sharp. The vast majority are getting O's and E's. My third years are a joke to put it lightly. I honestly don't know why on earth most of those kids are in Divination at all. It really should be only people who have the ability to See, even if only a little bit, because then I'm spending the whole time trying to help kids who clearly can't See, when I could be helping fine tune the really Gifted students."

Hermione nods in agreement, probably recalling the less-than-fabulous time she had in Divination class.

Hermione's probably the biggest Non-Seer I've ever met. There are varying levels of Seeing, some very capable and able in most areas of Divination, others great in specialized areas, others having premonitions or visions very rarely. Still, others are capable of having momentary prowess or periods of time when they are able to See, maybe not very powerful, but definitely something. Hermione, however, claims nothing of that sort has ever happened to her. Even Ron, Harry and Ginny admit to something of that sort happening to them (Dom is not a particularly gifted Seer, he's a better telekinetic).

I decide to change the subject, Hermione always getting a little touchy when I talk about something that she simply cannot do, no matter how many books she reads.

I pause, thinking about it for a second. Is it safe to tell Hermione?

"Hey, 'Mione," I say, deciding to risk it. "Speaking of kids, guess what Harry asked me?"

"It wasn't the marriage thing, was it?"

"No," I say. "He asked me if I wanted to have a baby with him."

"What?" Hermione asked, definitely surprised but not really shocked. "You two aren't even married."

"I know, that's what I told him. I also added the fact that the two of us have, like, no money." I pause. "But it seemed like he really wanted it," I add slowly, thinking about that night. "It wasn't like the look he got in his eye when he begs for a new broom or something like that. It was the same look as when he asked me to marry him. Well, the first time anyway. I was full of longing and hopefulness."

"Yeah, Ron was the same," She says. It's a second or two before I realize what she said.

"Ron wants to start a family too?"

"Yeah, but what did you say to Harry?"

I sigh. Unfortunately there's no changing the subject this time.

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**So did'ya like it! DID'YA!**

**lol new chapter will be up shortly. a special thanks to my newest fan, my girl SAHER, who has offered great support. Much love, Saher.**

**o and i was wondering what the actually grading system in the wizarding world? someone put it in a review, please!**

**Love to all,**

**mmb**


	7. Saving Alex

**Okay, so, so sorry about updating this a whole month after the last one, but I had to study for finals and take notes and review and then, THEN i got a viral infection (my doctor's words not mine. just so you know, that's just a fancy way of saying i have a cold. my doctor's just weird like that) and so i missed one of my finals and i nearly failed my english final and... you know what? i'll spare you my drama. The point is this chapter is finally up and I hope you enjoy!**

**O btw, this chapter features a different narrator near the end. Who could it be? Oh, yeah, like it's that big a mystery... anyway read and review ppl. read and review.**

**_UPDATE 8/14/6:_ Still nothing new. Refreshers are helpful tho.**

_

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_

_In The Previous Chapter..._

_"Ron wants to start a family too?" I ask._

_"Yeah, but what did you say to Harry?" Hermione says._

_I sigh. Unfortunately there's no changing the subject this time._

**Saving Alex**

"I said that we should wait until the war's over," I say, talking to my fingernails because I can't look Hermione in the eye. "I said that if anything happened to the baby because of Voldemort that I could have prevented by waiting, I'd never forgive myself."

There's a pause. Not a comfortable one either. It's one of those awful, uncomfortable silences where you wish someone would just say _something _so that you don't feel like such a moron after saying such a out-there comment.

"Say _something_, Hermione," I beg quietly. She looks up at me, looking a little surprised.

"Wow," she says, like that was a very profound statement. Then a familiar creeping smile makes its way onto her lips. "You never cease to amaze, Alex."

I laugh.

"So anyway, what did Ron say?" I say, not letting _her_ change the subject. She sighes with a smirk on her face, like she'd known I was gonna keep pushing this.

"He just asked what I thought about starting a family."

"And you said...?" I say eagerly, like a giddy preteen girl listening for juicy gossip. She sighes again and looks at her ring as she continues to fiddle with it.

"I'd do anything for Ron," she says sofly, shifting her gaze from her ring to me. "I know this is something he really wants, and truth be told, I want a baby too. And who knows? We might not still be here after the war."

I look up at Hermione suddenly. I'm a little shocked that she's saying that. She's been the most blindly optimistic one of the three of us girls, probably because she just got married to Ron six months ago and frankly doesn't want to think about him dying. But now it's what I don't want to think about.

"So wait... are you pregnant?" I ask stupidly, not having considered that possibility before. Suddenly I panic. After all this lead up, it seems like this is a really big deal (don't give me that look, I don't mean that it's not for me, I just mean that this was completely planned and they've been looking forward to this for a while now), and I don't want Hermione feel like I'm stealing her thunder.

"No, not yet," she sighes, trying to hide her disappointment. "It's a lot harder than people think, getting pregnant."

_Wanna bet_? I'm tempted to say.

"What's the matter with you guys?" I ask instead.

"Nothing's wrong. We're just not the most fertile people in the world."

Hermione says it like it's no big deal, but I can tell that it's really important to her and it's really getting to her that she can't give Ron a baby.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help."

"Don't worry about it," she says, brushing it off.

Suddenly I realize I can't be here anymore. Everytime I look at Hermione I just get more and more guilty. I stand up.

"I should get back to work," I say. I walk around the desk and give Hermione a hug. "Take care of yourself, babe."

I walk to the door and just as I'm almost out the door, Hermione says, "Lex?"

I look back in.

"Yeah?"

She smiles. "Thanks for listening. You're the best."

I can't take it anymore. I walk out of the doorway as fast as I can, not able to take much more of that. I practically run down the hallway, the tears fighting to burst forth, but I won't let them. I can't.

I thrust open my door and close it behind me. I barely make it to my chair before I finally burst.

Before I even realize it, I'm sobbing hysterically, shaking and gasping for air, crying with abandon like I used to when I was little and Dominik would steal my grape-flavored Drooble's. I can't believe how selfish I'm being. Hermione's over there in her office, drumming her fingers idly against her desk and staring into the abyss, wondering miserably why she can't make Ron a dad. And this entire morning I've been flouncing about, all "Woe to me! God forbid I should be pregnant! Especially since I've always wanted to be a mom and I'm having it with Harry, who I'm completely crazy about!"

It seems like life always ends up working like that. You never really appreciate how good you actually have it until you see how awful someone else has it. Poor Hermione, she must be tearing herself up, desperately asking herself why she can't give Ron what he so desperately needs and deserves.

Just then Dominik walks in, holding a small beige paper bag, resembling the kind of bags that they put bagels and strudels and other assorted baked goods at the bakery down the street where Ron said he was going. I'm assuming Ron went to ask Ginny and Dom if they wanted something (which makes twice that their little sexcapade got interrupted) and got something for me even though I'd said I didn't want anything. Dom's such a good big brother (don't you roll your eyes at me, I know Dom's only seven hours older than me, but older is older).

"Hey, I asked Ron too--" He says, stopping when he sees me crying. His eyes settle on me, trying to decipher the look of dispair on my face, and then moves around the desk and wraps me up in one of those world famous big brother hugs, the one that makes you feel like the little kids you used to be and how your big brother was always gonna be there to protect you from the bullies. Because that's what Dominik does: he saves me.

**Dominik's POV**

As soon as I see her crying, I know that I was right and that something's up.

Suddenly, I have an involuntary flashback. You know, just one of those moments where you've had such a similar experience before, so you can't help but think about it.

The flashback is probably the earliest memory I can recall. I remember it was the summer before Mama sent us to preschool and it by all means a record breaking summer. The waves were biggest they'd seen infive years, the water was the warmest it had been in eleven years, and the temperatures were the hottest they'd seen in a whopping twenty years. The house was hotter than holy hell and me and Alex were complaining, so after a while Mama caved and took us to the park.

The park was me and Lexy's wonderland.It was proof of the "sum of it's parts" philosophy, even before I could understand what that was. It was like... there was the park, and all of it separately wouldn't have made a speck of difference to us: a field, theshore in the distance,some trees, a sandpit and a big mechanical "pile of crap" as Mama christened it when she thought we weren't listening, otherwise she called it a hunk of junk, so she didn't corrupt our impressionable minds. But when we looked at it, it was more than that. It was... well, honestly, it was never one thing to us. It was whatever we wanted it to be. It was a deserted island, and we were the shipwrecked sailors. It was a space ship, maneuvering its way through a perilousastroidfield. It was the Quidditch World Cup stadium, and the US had finally made it to the Cup (needless to say, the US team wasn't fortunate enough to have a Krum on their team) and they were kicking serious booty. It was what we made it and it never let us down.

We went there almost daily everyday until we turned six, and even after that it was still our spot. Whenever Mama got mad at Lexy for not cleaning her room or not doing her chores when we were seven or eight, she would pack up her little pink Hello Kitty suitcase with her denim shorts, brightly colored tank tops, a pair of sandals and a book (sometimes it was Cinderella, other times Sleeping Beauty, but always a book) and head toward the park, leaving a erroneous note saying she was never coming home. After about an hour, me and Mama would go down there, leaving Ana at the house, and we would go down to the park, and I'd sit at a distance as Mama tentatively approached Lexy and her Hello Kitty suitcase which were always parked at the swings. Alex would always just be sitting there, looking out over the water swinging gently in the seat, and Mama would sit in the next swing, just sitting silently next to her. Then after about a minute or so, Mama would look at her and say something, something I couldn't hear, but judging by her face it was something about what was happening at home or what dinner was going to be. Eventually she'd kneel down in front of Alex, always at eye-level with her because Lexy was such a tiny little thing, brush her bangs out of her eyes and Mama would somehow convince her to come home, which she always would happily.

Then when we got older, Lexy would sneak off there a lot just to be alone, especially after Mama got the letter from Dad. She got really quiet during that period of time, no longer the loud, outspoken, constantly-laughing little muchacha that our family and friends loved her for. She'd become a tentative, shy person that I barely recognized. She wasn't completely gone though; whenever we got to talking by ourselves, pretty soon that familiar mischievous smile would settle back into her face and she'd laugh out loud again and play and tease and it was like nothing had even changed.

She wasn't a total drag during those times, even though I missed the public displays of emotion and her way of telling all those really evil truths, the ones Mama always used to scold her about (for example, one time we went out to dinner at this Italian restaurant and we got this really nice waitress but she had a huge, ugly mole onher upper left cheek--the kind that protrude from the skin about a half an inch and usually have a couple thin, scrawny hairs growing out of it--and, though Ana and I knew better than to point it out and embarrass the hell out of Mama, Lexy just had to open her big mouth and say "I really like you, Senora, but you need to do something about that humungous mole on your face." Needless to say, the lady didn't take it very well and, with a expression that could have killed, stalked off to the kitchen, and Mama left a wad of money on the table and darted out of there as far as she could, dragging Ana and me as we desperately tried not to break down and roll around on the floor with laughter, and Lexy trailing along, a look on her face that clearly said that she had no clue why we were leaving.).

It was during that time she started reading more. And when I say more, I mean that there was hardly ever a time when Lexy wasn't holding or carrying or shoving her nose into a book. She could speed through a decent sized book for a kid her age in a day or two, whereas I usually spent a week or two forcing myself to read a book. But we'd find her in the weirdest places, reading a book. We've found her laying on the floor of her bedroom, her butt up against the side of her bed, with her shins resting up on her mattress, all the while intently reading a huge book. Then we found her up in one of the trees at the park, in the twisty slide in the jungle gym and many more that I don't have enough time to mention. But she loved it. I couldn't understand it for the life of me, but she loved it so I never bothered her about it. She said that written works and paintings were essentially the same: both give you everything you need to get a clear frame of a picture, but it's up to you to find the hidden meanings and the subtle implications to give the full 360 view. Yeah, she said stuff like that all the time at the ripe old age of ten. Crazy, I know. But she was right on it. Looking back on it, what she said doesn't even just apply to art. "It's all about the perspective, Dom," she'd say, and she was damn right about that too.

And speaking of paintings, she took up painting, too, at which she kicks serious ass, just so you know, and that brought yet another reason for her to go down there. Sometimes she'd even let me watch her work. She wasn't exceptionally good at it when she firststarted, but soon she got better and her pictures were starting to live up to the "sum of its parts" philosophy of the park. Every brush stroke, every amorphous blob of paint, every color fading into another, they were insignificant. Look at them separately and you'll see absolutely nothing (unless, of course, you look at one of the bigger amorphous blobs, then you might see a pink turd, or a pile of orange barf). But put them all together, in just the right order and you got (forgive me, this is going to sound cheezy) magic.

Thanks to those things, Alex was becoming different, but this time it was better. She was still a little quiet, but she laughed and smiled more and I could just tell she was happier. So even though her extroverted nature was still MIA, I was fine with what she'd become in the meantime, and eventually, I was sure, she'd be back.

The only problem was that just when Alex was starting to be herself again, Mama died.

Alex was probably the most devasted of the three of us. Ana, though she was taking it really hard, forced herself to be composed and calm when we were around people and mourned silently, not even in front of us except for an occasional silent tear. I think she felt like she had to be strong for me and Lexy becaue we needed her more, but I felt like if she'd just let herself miss Mama, then maybe she'd be happier. I was only just turning eleven, but I still knew better than to cry in front of my uncles. It wasn't right, they'd say, for me to mourn when the girls needed me. And in a way, they did. Well, Lexy more than Ana, considering Ana was almost seventeen.

But Lexy did need me. She'd always needed me.

When we were born, I was the older twin and, being the older twin, was born first, and almost without any complications. Then they were getting ready to deliver Alex and something wasn't right. Even now I don't really know the details, but I do know that there was some super rare problem with Alex's heart and the doctors thought that the pressure of going through the birth canal might make the problem worse. They waited about seven and a half hours and they finally gave Mama a potion that would make Alex's heart a little stronger just long enough to deliver her and put her under observation. Mama took me home three days later, after they had checked to make sure I didn't have a mild form of what Alex had, but Alex stayed in the hospital for nearly three months as they corrected the problem. After that, they assured Mama that Alex was going to be fine, but she'd have a weak heart, basically meaning, that she could do almost anything but would probably never be a star athelete. Mama was thrilled with that answer, considering Ana was the family soccer/quidditch star and what Mama really wanted was a little girl, who wanted to take up dancing or something.

But even though Alex was going to be fine, we still had scares sometimes, like after running really hard, Alex would have some trouble breathing and we'd just give her the potion and she'd settle back down momentarily. Even though none of those incidents were very bad, I always felt like Alex needed some extra protection, so I was always with her.

Anyway, as we slowly got back into the normal routine, Alex was coming out of the quietness that she characteristically fell into after a hard time. She still hung out at the park a lot, painting and reading, and slowly she was becoming Alex again. Even after we left for Hogwarts, whenever we returned for a long weekend or a break, we'd hang out there. Whenever she broke up with someone I could always find her at the edge of the park, where the grass stopped and the shore started, with her legs pulled up against her chest and her arms wrapped around them, just staring out at the ocean as the wind caught her hair.

Anyway, the point is the park was our spot. So Mama took her characteristic spot at the blue bench under the big tree, which was just close enough to watch us and tell us to be careful if she thought we were being too reckless, but far enough away so that she wasn't constantly breathing down our necks like those psychotic parents who are always following their kid around like a shadow, trying to protect them from any danger that might arise, be it a rusty swing o ra nasty thorn or another kid who (god forbid!) asked their kid to stop hogging the slide. So me and Alex stormed the playground and entertained ourselves as Mama crocheted something.

After a while of playing, we got into a little fight over the game we were playing. We were in the middle of playing pirates when Alex got tired of being the lookout on the swings and wanted to be the captain, 'cause the captain got to steer the ship. See, on the very highest floor of the jungle gym was a plastic steering wheel that was supposed to resemble the one that might've been on a pirate ship. I couldn't go on the swings for long periods of time 'cause it made me throw up, but Lexy could go for an hour straight and not even be nauseous. Therefore, I was the captain and she was always the look out. So, being the young dude I was, I told Lexy that she couldn't be the captain because she was a girl. Even at five and a half, I could tell by the look on her face that she wanted to kick the shit out of me. Luckily for me she didn't. She just walked off with her little stubborn stride, her long ponytail swinging behind her.

Deciding that it'd be pretty boring to be captain without a first mate/lookout, I went and played in the sand with another kid I knew from somewhere. We'd gotten far enough into our sand castle that we were ready to find a stick to serve as a little flag when Alex came running up to me.

She was crying loudly, the way little kids do, and was sporting a large scrap across one cheek and a large blooming bruise on her arm. She walked onto the play ground up to me and I ran up to meet her.

"Lexy, wha's'a matter?" I asked her when I'd reached her. Behind Alex, I saw Mama glance up at us, like she did occasionally to see if everything was alright, and then look over at us, trying to figure out what was going. She set down her blanket that she was crocheting and walked over to us.

"A boy!" she cried. During this type of cry, she could only spit out a couple of words at a time. "He took my gum!" Another long, loudsob. "And he--" and another sob, "he pushed me down!"

By this time, Mama was already kneeling down and setting Alex on her knee as she held her close, rocking her gently, making soft shushing sounds and stroking her hair. Alex buried her face in Mama's shoulder, muffling her sobs.

I, however, wasn't paying attention anymore. I was pissed, to put it lightly. I wanted to kick the life out of this little punk that'd made my little sister cry. No onestole from my little sister... except me of couse. I looked around for anyone who had a package of grape flavored Drooble's, Alex's candy of choice, but by all means not exactly their best seller, so whoever had some was most likely the punk. I took a full 360 view of the playground and park and scanned for anyone carrying it. I passed up a couple that was probably around fifteen or sixteen, connected by the lips on a far-off bench, an elderly woman walking along with the help of a cane, a group of older guys playing frisbee or something until my eyes finally settled on a boy who was about my age, avidly chewing a pack of grape Drooble's.

I walked to him, my blood pounding hard in my ears. I was so angry that I wasn't even thinking when I tapped him on the shoulder and then punched him right in the face, and even though I was five years old and weighed 64 pounds, I nearly broke his nose, although it hurt my hand pretty bad. As he was doubled over, holding his nose, I easily took the remaining Drooble's from his slackened hand and walked back to Alex, who was still sitting on Mama's lap crying softly now as I was coming back to her. I tapped her shoulder lightly, and when she looked up, her face soaked with tears, I held out the Drooble's for her and she took it, smiling. She jumped off of Mama's lap, wiped her eyes and hugged me tightly.

"I love you, Dom," she said in her high squeaky voice, pulling away and grinning at me as Mama prodded us toward the stairs that were cut into the mountain that lead up towards our house.

Now, as I look at her behind her desk crying like she had that day, shuddering and gasping as tears poured down her face like a broken dam, I want to do something like I did then. Something to make it all better. But I can't. This time, there's nothing I can do to give this problem a perfect solution like that, no Drooble's to steal back for my little sister to make the tears stop. All I can do is hold her tight, like my embrace might actually save her.

* * *

**Did you like it? Did'ya?**

**Anyway remember to review. And yet another thanks to Saher, for convincing me to get off my ass and update already, or so she said in my yearbook... oh and another thanks to sum nox for finally giving into my nagging and reviewing. Much love to you both!**

**-mmb**


	8. Any Other Way

**Hiya people! I hope you liked my updates! I had tons of fun writing them, and upon my last check the hits on "Happily Ever After" _1105_ people had viewed my story! YEAH! Anyway so I'm really happy about that. So I guess all I have to say is... REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!**

**Okay now. Let the chapter begin.**

_In the Previous Chapter..._

_This time, there's nothing I can do to give this problem a perfect solution like that, no Drooble's to steal back for my little sister to make the tears stop. All I can do is hold her tight, like my embrace might actually save her._

**Chapter 8: Any Other Way**

"Lex," he whispers softly into my ear, rubbing my back reassuringly. He pulls me back a bit to look me in the eye. "Muchacha, what's wrong?"

"I shouldn't have done it!"I tell him, crying like I haven't since I was a little kid. "Dominik, I shouldn't have done it!" I pause, sobbing a little. "I just didn't want to lose Harry, and now it's too late!"

"Lexy, calm down," he says soothingly, rubbing my arm. I take a second to slow my breathing. Once Dom's satisfied, he continues. "What did you do?"

I don't answer, looking down at my small hands as I wring them feverishly.

"Alex, talk to me," he tells me firmly. I look him in the eye sadly. "C'mon, you said you'd tell me if something was wrong. Now talk."

I sigh.

"It's a long story," I finally say.

He smiles.

"I've got time."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, me and Dominik are sitting in a cafe down the street from the entrance to the Ministry. I remember this place only very vaguely, having only set foot in it before to buy iced americanas for everyone on a coffee run. Dom's up at the counter, ordering me a muffin or something. I'm sitting at our table, watching the people pass by the cafe through the window. 

I find myself wondering what's really going on in their head, but it's not easy. People learn over time how best to keep the world out. It's the easiest way to make the rest of the world think that nothing's wrong.

I watch a teenage girl walk by with her mother. I wonder... is she really happy? She has a beautiful, yet clearly inexpensive ring on her right ring finger, which she keeps fiddling with, the way Hermione always does with her wedding band: as though she never wants to loose it. Does that mean she has a boyfriend? If so, does he treat her right? Does he act wonderful in front of the world, but behind closed doors become a different person? Does he think she's the princess that she is, and would he do anything for her? Along those lines, has he told her he loves her? Does she feel the same? What does her mother think of him? Does she adore him and love the fact that their together? Or is he just one of those guys who's good deep down, but the parents don't believe he's right for her? And about her mother, is _she_ happy? Is she still married to the girl's father? Was she ever married to her father? Is she married to someone else? Is the girl's father dead? Despite who she's married to, how is her marriage? Are they still madly in love, or has the flame silently gone out? Or is she unmarried and alone, spending her nights wondering if she'll ever find someone to treat her right?

I see another woman walking down the street, on the opposite side and going the opposite direction of the mother and daughter. She looks like she's probably a very successful model. Come to think of it, I think I've seen her in a muggle magazine before. She's beautiful, that's for damn sure. She has gorgeous long platinum blonde hair in long loose curls, tumbling down her back. She looks like she just stepped off the runway, walking like there are photographers snapping pics all around her, wearing a loose fitting, off-white, summer linen type romantic era shirt with a tank underneath. She has black clam digger slacks on and a pair of pointy toed black pumps. Around her neck are a stylish tangle of gold charm necklaces, one with a true victorian style cameo necklace with the little portrait in it, all of those accompanied by a cream colored scarf, which is billowing behind her as her pumps _click_ and _clack_ along.

At approximately 5'11", she makes me look like a flea, and she's wearing this bitchy smile, like she's so fucking high above the rest of us. I roll my eyes. Women like that are the reason there are so many gay guys around.

Then I stop thinking that. Maybe there's more to her than just what I can see. Maybe one of her parents just died. Maybe she's in a bad relationship, or she's been dumped recently by the guy who could've been the one. Maybe she didn't want to be a model at all, but she just can't find a way out of it now. Maybe she's in my predicament. Maybe the father left her because of it, and she's debating whether to keep it or get rid of it, through adoption or otherwise. Maybe she hasn't gotten laid in a while.

I shudder at the very thought. Dear God. If that's really what's wrong, then I don't blame the poor girl for her bitchy stare.

I stop watching . I guess sometimes we get so caught up in our own shit that we forget that there are other people out there with the same problem or quite possibly worse problems. We stop thinking that maybe there's more to people than we can possibly see in a moment's glance. Maybe we do it because we're happy not knowing. Let's face it, we all have our own problems. Some big, some smaller, but problems nonetheless. We don't really want to think about other people who are dying or suffering or heartbroken. Ignorance _is_ bliss after all.

But what if we did care a little more? What if we took a little time to check on the neighbor we never bothered to get to know because they seemed a little blue? What if we stopped cussing out the person who cut us off in traffic, because we know they probably had a bad day? What if we told the co-worker who was gossipping about how much weight someone had gained that they've just been having a hard time, because you know that there's more to a person than what their scale says? What would happen if everyone in the world admitted they didn't know the whole story about people, and that maybe if they did, they wouldn't have judged?

Dominik comes back to the table, his coffee and my blueberry muffin in hand. He sets my muffin on a neat little paper napkin and sits down opposite of me, setting down his coffee without taking a sip. I eye it with longing.

"Alex," Dom says, trying to draw my attention away from his caramel macchiato. "Pay attention. Now tell me what's wrong."

I sigh. It's _way_ too early for this shit. I mumble, "I'm having a baby."

"What about maybe?" he asks confusedly.

"I didn't say maybe, I said baby!" I snap at him, whispering so I don't announce it to the whole cafe. "I _said_ I'm having a baby!"

I cross my arms stubbornly over my chest. As for him, he still looks like he's in a state of temporary shock.

"What did you say?" he asks, positive that he heard wrong.

"I'm pregnant," I repeat, sounding like my old hard-headed self. He's still at a loss for words.

"How did this happen?" he manages to blurt out. I look at him and roll my eyes.

"Don't tell me you need a demonstration," I say exasperatedly.

"No," he says, chuckling. "What did you mean when you said you shouldn't have done it?"

I shoot him this crinkle-browed stare that quite clearly says, "Can you please reword that?"

"What happened?" he paraphrases.

"A lot of things happened, Dom," I mumble impatiently. "Be specific."

"For starters, why is this Harry's fault?" he asks. I send him a "twin stare," the kind where he can tell exactly what I'm thinking. He rolls his eyes, correctly interpreting my stare. "I meant other than the fact that he knocked you up."

I sigh loudly, covering up my face with my hands. How very eloquent.

"What?" he says, completely oblivious as to my reaction.

"Way to make me sound like the high-school cheerleader slut."

"You know that's not what I meant." I look at him and I can tell he's sincere.

"I know," I sigh, rubbing my tired eyes. "I'm just grouchy and hormonal and pregnant."

"I know," Dom says, grinning. "Now fill me in, why don't you?"

"Okay," I say. So I start to tell him about the walk in the park and the family and how Harry got all quiet.

"So later that night," I continue, as Dom listens intently, "We're in bed--"

"Alex, let's keep it G rated," Dom says, only slightly irritated. But that's all it takes to set me off.

"Grow up, Dom!" I snap at him. I feel bad an instant later, but Dom just laughs.

"Pregnant women..." he sighs, and I fight to suppress a grin. "Please continue."

"Okay, so we're just cuddling, just enjoying the moment and each other's company and talking, and suddenly he asks me what I thought about having a baby."

"You two aren't even married," Dom says, confused. "It just seems like a weird time to start a family."

"Well," I say, a little embarrassed to admit it to him, "he asks me to marry him all the time."

"What?" Dom says, looking at me, a little confused. "When did this happen?"

"Since about a year ago," I admit sheepishly, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

"A year!" he asks, shocked. He just looks at me for a second."Lex..." he says, obviously at a loss for words, "why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know," I say slowly, still looking down at my muffin, which I'm slowing dismantling with my nervous fingers. "Probably because I knew you'd convince me to marry him."

Dom just looks at me for a moment as neither of us says a word.

"Why don't you?" he asks suddenly, and I suddenly look up at him.

"Everyone keeps asking me that," I sigh, emotionless. "Don't you think I'd love to? I wanna marry Harry more than I can even put into words. I want the dream wedding w-with the white dress ... and the coral roses and the perfect china! I want Enrique as the ring bearer in an adorable little tux... and Cristina as the flower girl in a beautiful little white dress... with a big white lily in her pretty dark hair! I want the white picket fence... and the big house... and a whole mess of kids! Don't you understand! I want all of that! But not now! Not when everyone's scared and Harry might not come home!"

And cue the waterworks. I was pretty much balling from the words "dream wedding." God, this is getting rediculous. Even the dumbest question is sending me into hysterics.

Oh, even better, now I'm nauseous. Actually I'm way past that. In fact I'm ready to hurl my brains up.

I run to the bathroom, faster than I've probably ever run in my entire life, and just make it to the sink for a photo finish--not that you'd want to photograph it.

Dom follows me and rubs my back soothingly as I grip the sink with white knuckles. I've probably never, ever been this miserable. My throat is searing in pain from the acid, I can barely breathe, and the whole situation with Harry and the baby is catching up to me.

Once the vomiting subsides, Dom wipes off my face and brushes my hair out of my eyes. And he wraps me up in his embrace, and for a second the world's just a little quieter, a little smaller, and a whole lot less complicated. 'Cause Dom's hugging me the way only a brother can, so tight that you can barely breathe but you don't really care 'cause when you're held this tight, you're protected from every little boy that tries to steal your gum and every guy that breaks your heart.

I remember when I was little, I'd watch my friends and girl cousins with their dads. Whenever they'd skin their knee or fall off the jungle gym, their Daddy would be their in a heartbeat, scooping them up in his arms, kissing their boo-boo, telling them everything would be alright so that the world was just a little better. When they got older, I saw them try to get away with short skirts, shorter shorts, see-through tops, high heels and make-up that just wouldn't do. And once they were just a little older than that, there was never a guy that they could bring home that was good enough for them. They'd whine to me, saying how lucky I was.

But I wanted that. I wanted someone to hug me and protect me from the world. I wanted someone to tell me that under no circumstances would I wear that tube top out in public. I wanted someone to scrutinize every guy I was with and say how they were never good enough. But Dad was never there. He never said those things. He never protected me, or picked apart my outfit, because he knew I was classier than the stuff I tried to wear, or suddenly didn't like Harry anymore because he was suddenly dating me, because he knew that no guy, however amazing, was good enough for me.

But I realize at this very moment that my dad may not have acted like one, but I'd always had one. Someone who'd been there with me from the day I was born. Someone who'd protect me from the bullies, who'd tell me I look like a slut in that skirt, who'd kick any guys ass, for the sole reason that he asked me out. Someone who'd do all that because they loved me. And that was Dom.

"Lex, let's get you home," he whispers.

"No," I say groggily, wiped out after that. "I have to go back to the Ministry. And then... the kids, I have to go back to teach."

"No, you're not," he says, quietly but firmly as he helps me walk out of the cafe. "I'll take over."

"Are you sure?" I yawn, stumbling around. I add and "I can do it," for good measure, but it's not very convincing.

"Positive," he says smiling, as we go into a back alley so we can Apparate to Hogwarts.

We appear at the Front Gate, the cold morning air swirling around us in icy swirls. I squint in the bright sunlight of sunrise and tap my wand on the three specific spots of the gate, and they swing open. We walk up the road to the castle and then up all the stairs to the loft, Dom helping me the whole way. Dom knocks on the door, and I lean against the wall near the door, figuring Harry's still asleep and that it'll be a while before he rouses from the knocking and comes downstairs.

But, instead, immediately after the first knock the door bursts open to reveal a very worried looking Harry.

"Someone's a little over-excited," I mumble.

"Where were you?" he asks, taking me in his arms.

"Calm down," I tell him, speaking softly. "I was at work."

"Couldn't you have left a note or something?" he asks me, and I can tell he was seriously freaking out. "I woke up and you weren't here and I thought the worst."

"I'm fine," I say, forcing myself to smile, as thought the ability to smile proves I'm okay.

"You don't look so good," Harry says, looking at my pale face and tired eyes.

"Yeah, she wasn't feeling well, so I brought her home," Dom tells Harry. "It was just a bit of m--"

"Flu," I say, cutting him off. "Just a bit of the flu." There's a weird, awkward silence, where Dom's looking at me inquisitively, wondering why I cut him off, and Harry's looking at me suspiciously for cutting him off. "I'm gonna take the day off, and Dom said he'd fill in for me."

"Thanks, Dom," Harry says, giving Dominik one of those "man hugs" where guys make like they're going to shake each other's hand but then the pull each other in and hug and slap each other on the back. I tried to do that once with Ginny, just because we were bored and were wondering how they did that and let me tell you, it's not comfy. Your hands get smushed in the middle of everything and the hands are pushing into your ribs and the slap isn't nice feeling either. Harry look back at me. "Let's get you into bed."

"Hold on one second, Harry," I say. "I need to talk to Dom for a minute."

"Okay," Harry says, going back inside. "Do you want me to make you some tea?"

"Yeah," I say, "the caffeine free mint please."

"Okay," Harry says, nodding. He looks at Dom. "See ya, Dom."

"Later," Dom says, and Harry closes the door, and the happy look wipes off Dom's face immediately. He lowers his voice. "What the hell was that?"

"What'd'ya mean, 'what was that?'" I whisper at him angrily. "You almost told him!"

"Well, if you had told him already, I wouldn't have been in that situation!" he whisper-yells back at me.

"I can't tell him! He's not gonna want a baby! Not when this whole thing with Voldemort's in full-swing!"

"So what are you planning on doing? After a few months, he's gonna notice you're gaining some weight!"

"I know I'll have to tell him! Just not right now."

Dom just looks at me, like he'd like nothing better than to walk in that door and force me to tell Harry everything.

"I'm not gonna force you to tell him," he says defeatedly. "And I'm not going to tell him. But you need to. And soon."

"I know," I sigh. "Look, I have to get back in there before he gets suspicious, so good luck with the kids. 1st period is third years, 2nd is fourth years, 3rd is OWL Prep, 4th you have off and 5th is NEWT Prep. 6th is usually special training with the gifted students, so just put a sign up on the door after 5th period that says I'm sick today and so lessons are cancelled. Lesson plans are in the top right hand corner of the desk, just tap the lock with your wand and say 'Cholula.' And that's all you need to know."

"Okay," Dom says, nodding. He gives me one final hug. "Good luck, Lex."

"Thanks," I say, as he backs up and starts to walk down the hallway. "I'm gonna need it."

Dom stops walking and looks back at me, smiling.

"No, you won't."

He keeps walking down the hallway and out of sight. As I watch him go, I think to myself, maybe this is how it's meant to be. Maybe all the people I saw before--the daughter and mother, the model--are supposed to have all their problems hidden, so that when someone takes the time to uncover them, it really means something. Maybe I was meant not to have my dad, because it showed me how much Dom cared. Maybe I'm meant to be keeping this from Harry right now, because the perfect moment is dead ahead.

Yeah, I conclude, it is. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

**Okay, I'm just gonna list all the people I want to thank!**

**1. Sum nox, who hasn't seen any of the new changes but I'm still thanking her anyway because she turned me onto this site. **

**2. Saher, who isn't a member of this site and can't review but is still my homey and always reviews by text message (which is probably why my mom and dad are pissed over my cell phone bill...)**

**3. Devotion408, who was my very first reviewer and has been still very helpful since. **

**4. Cookiedoughmunchkin, one of my more recent reviewers who "LOOVE"s my writing, or so she said.☻**

**5. And jon02, who put me on my very first C2! Yay!**

**And of course all you readers who don't bother to review, consider this: you too will be thanked if you review. And I respond to every review i get. So... yeah. Review.**

**Much love to you all.**

**♥Mystrymoviebrunette♥**


	9. Eleventh Time's the Charm

**Hey peeps, I already had most of this chapter written already so I basically added the beginning and voila (that's french) it was ready! So I hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter Nine: Eleventh Time's the Charm

"Tell me where he is," he says in a cold, piercing voice that cuts right through me.

"No," I whisper, not able to gather the strength to yell anymore. I weakly tug at the shackles on my wrists. "Never..."

"I'm beginning to lose patience with you," he snarls. I can hear him pacing in front of me, but I can't see him. I haven't even got enough energy to open my eyes. I can barely remember what a full stomach or a kind word feels like. I hear his footsteps growing louder, like he's coming towards me. A second later I feel a wand under my chin, which is suddenly thrust upward abruptly, as though someone wants me to look them in the eye. I groggily open my eyes and realize that he's mere inches from my face. If I'd been more alive, I'd be petrified that he's so close. I'd be terrified of his bloodred eyes and his distorted face and the horrible glint in his eye. But I'm too weak. Too weak to be afraid. Too weak to care. Too weak to feel.

"Do you need more persuation?" he asks, pressing the tip of his wand harder into my neck, adding to many bruises scattered across my body. Despite my frail condition, I'll never give him the satisfaction of winning.

"Bring... it on..." I breath, my eyes emitting as much fire as they can muster.

Sure enough, I hear, _"Crucio!"_ a split second later. Suddenly my entire body erupts in a horrible burning pain, and even though this is far from the first time this has happened here, it's still just as painful as the very first time. My insides sear like I've been force-fed acid, every muscle in my body is contracting at once, burning and aching at the same time, my head feels like it'll explode at any second, and every inch of my skin feels like it's been stuck with a thousand white-hot needles. I hear a cackling and someone screaming, but it sounds far off, like it's in a dream.

Suddenly, a miracle occurs. Everything stops. Every needle is pulled out, the acid gone, my muscles relax and the pressure in my skull subsides. I gasp for breath as my entire body throbs with a dull ache, my arms and hands limply hanging in their shackles. I have absolutely no strength left, and my head lolls around on my shoulders. I feel a warm wetness forming around my eyes, and I realize without feeling the emotion that I'm crying. As I slowly come back into my senses, I realize that the screams I heard earlier were only my own, the cackling belonging only to--

"Where has your bravery gone now?" he hisses, roughly grabbing my chin and lifting it so I meet his eyes. I open my eyes. I'm not going to be like a child, closing its eyes to make the terror in front of it less real. I'm going to stare terror right in the face, because no matter what I do, it's real. And closing my eyes won't change that.

"This is your very last chance," he tells me, staring me right in the eye. "Tell me where Harry is."

I look him in the eye. I breathe in and realize how big a chore it is. I weigh my options and consider that death isn't such a bad alternative.

I spit right in his face. He lets out an angry cry and backhands me across the face. I can feel the heat rising in my cheek where he struck me.

"If that's the way you want to have it," he screams at me, "then so be it! Wormtail!" He shouts off to the side, calling someone over who I can't see. "Bring the child here!"

I become instantly more alert when I hear the word "child." Wormtail creeps out of the shadows, carrying in his arms a bundle, with a small opening revealing a tiny rounded face with oval shaped green eyes and my dark hair. My breath quickens as he delicately takes the bundle from Wormtail.

"Leave her out of this!" I cry, yelling with every ounce of strength I have. "Leave her alone!"

"What a beautiful child," he simpers, grinning fiendishly. He runs a thin, pale finger along her cheek. "It's a shame she has to pay for her mother's insolence."

"No!" I scream, yanking at my chains in vain. I can feel the warm tears streaming down my face. "Leave her be! I'll tell you where he is! Just give her to me!"

"It's too late!" he cries. "You have disrespected the Dark Lord and now you will be punished! Say good bye!"

"NO!" I scream, my throat searing as I pull at my shackles with strength I didn't realize I had. "LEAVE HER ALONE!"

He raises his wand with the opposite arm and points it right at her face.

"NO!" I scream, making her cry. "MY BABY!"

_"Avada Kedavra!" _he shouts. His wand emits a blinding green light that engulfs the baby. The crying stops. I feel my heart get ripped into a thousand piece in my chest. I cry and cry and cry with abandon, not caring about holding it back anymore. Because she's gone and I can't save her.

"NO!" I cry, screaming at the top of my lungs and gasping for breath as my face floods with tears. "MY BABY!"

* * *

_"Alex," _I hear someone calling from somewhere far away. _"Alex, wake up."_

_"My baby," _I mutter to myself. _"Come back."_

"Alex, wake up," Harry says softly, gently nudging my shoulder.

I jerk awake, breathing like I've just run a mile in five minutes as tears run down my cheeks. I sit myself upright and look around the room. It's already dark.

"Lex, what's wrong?" Harry asks, wrapping his arms around me as I cry.

"Harry, it was awful!" I bawl into his chest as he pats my back. "I was chained up, and Voldemort wanted to know where you were! And I wouldn't tell him and he took my baby!"

"Shhh, it was just a dream," he whispers, kissing the top of my head. "It's all just a dream."

"He killed her," I whisper, crying silently. "He killed my baby."

"It's okay," he says softly. "It's all in your head."

"Don't let him get me," I whisper, nestling myself into his chest as I begin to drift back to sleep. "Don't let him get us..."

And with that, I'm asleep again. Harry lays me back down and covers me up. He walks to the door and looks at me, snoozing restfully, as he wonders what I meant by "us."

* * *

I slowly come into conciousness, feeling the warm sun on my face. I blink a bit, trying to figure out what time it is. Judging by the direction of the sun streaming through the window it's late in the afternoon, about four thirty or so. My god, I've slept two days away. 

I swing my legs out of bed and slip my feet into some slippers. I feel gross so I jump in the shower and come out feeling rejuvinated. I scoured myself, and everything feels and smells squeaky clean. I put on my glasses, which I wear only when I'm too lazy to wear contacts but are pretty cool-looking anyway, some clean shorts and a fitted t-shirt and my slippers and go downstairs to Harry.

I find him in his office, looking over intelligence and maps. I stand in the doorway for a second, just watching him at work. His concentration is amazing, I can barely stay focused on one given task for more than a couple minutes.

"Harry?" I say softly, trying to catch his attention. He doesn't hear me. "Harry?" I say more forcefully.

He looks up at me and smiles.

"Hey you," he says, getting up from the chair and walking around the desk towards me. He lifts my chin and kisses me softly on the lips. "How are you feeling?"

"Better after that," I say smiling, not lying this time. My headache is gone, my stomach is calm and I feel rested. "But I need to talk to you."

Harry frowns a little.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, looking concerned. I look at him for a second.

"God, I hope so," I say. I grab his hand, gently pulling him out of the office and into the living room. I sit him down on the couch and sit on the coffee table (ah! yet another reminder that I can't have coffee!) so I'm facing him.

"Alex, you're worrying me a bit," Harry says, apprehension plastered across his face. "It's going to be alright, you know. I love you."

For some reason, my hormonal tear trigger has just been pulled. Tears start pouring down my face faster than I can hide them. I have to make a mental note to apologize to my aunts for making fun of their hormonal-ness while they were pregnant.

"Alex, what's wrong?" Harry says, alarmed.

"What's wrong?" I manage to force out through my sobbing. "What's wrong? I'm pregnant, Harry, that's what's wrong!"

Harry looks at me in shock for a while. And then he slowly reaches up to massages his forehead, like he can't think.

"Alex..." Harry says slowly, looking away from me. "I'm sorry."

I screw up my face, looking at him.

"You're sorry?" I squeak angrily. My voice is being a little constricted because I'm sobbing so hard. I stand up and look down at him.

Harry looks at me, his eyes tired and sad, but I don't soften. What right does he have to tell me he's sorry I'm pregnant?

"Yes, I'm sorry," he says, a little forcefully.

"You're sorry?" I repeat. Suddenly all the stuff I shouldn't say come bubbling up to the surface, and before I can stop it I'm blurting it out. "Harry, I did this for you!"

Harry crinkles his brow and stands up slowly, not taking his eyes off mine. I'm not scared.

"What are you talking about?" he asks cautiously.

"I did this for you!" I continue ranting, and I just keep spilling out all the things I shouldn't say. "I forgot to remind you to use the charm, even though I'm terrified and I'm going to be a horrible mother, because you were miserable without a baby!" I soften a little, the tears overpowering the anger. "Everytime we saw a diaper commercial or a stroller on the street, you got this look in your eyes! Like you would give up anything to have it!" I pause for a second. "Even me!" I look at him desperately, begging him to prove me wrong. "And now I'm scared and nervous and I just couldn't lose you."

He gives me this look filled with an emotion I can't quite place. Awe? Shock? Incredulity? It's hard to tell.

Suddenly he leans in and kisses me quickly and deeply, almost like he's worried there won't be enough time. For a split second, I contemplate pushing him away (after all, I'm supposed to be mad at him) but after a moment I realize I couldn't even if I wanted to. I relax into it and a groan of resignation escapes my throat. I push him back and look him in the eye, my eyes alternating from one of his eyes to the other. I silently thank him for understanding, then grab his hand and lead him up the winding staircase to our room.

* * *

I roll off of him, still panting heavily. For a moment, I just lay there, allowing the aftershocks to slowly dissipate. Then I snuggle up to Harry, resting my head on his shoulder. He wraps me up in his arms, holding me different than he's held me before. Before it was gentle and tender, saying somewhat, "I don't ever want you to go, but I love you enough to let you." Now it was warm and stong, saying, "I know you'll never go, and I can't let anyone take something this precious from me." 

For the first time in a long, long time, I get this strange unnaturally happy feeling. Like maybe everything'll work out okay. Like maybe Harry, the baby and me will actually get to be family. Like nothing and no one, not even Voldemort, can tear us apart. I realize even as I think that that's highly unrealistic, but with Harry's arms wrapped around me like this, I can't even imagine anything awful happening.

Harry takes his shoulder back and props himself up a little bit over me, so we can look at each other properly. I feel a grin spread it's way across my face involuntarily, and Harry smiles too.

"I love you," he says quietly, more than a whisper, but just barely, suddenly looking serious. "You know I do, right?"

"Of course," I tell him, being serious also. I always knew he loved me. I just wasn't sure if it'd be enough. "You know that I did this because I love you, right? I just wanted you to be hap--"

"Shhh," he says, putting a finger to my lips. "I know. And I love you for this. I love what you did. And I'll never be able to repay you for it."

"Then why did you look like you were so miserable downstairs?" I ask him. "I mean, I thought you'd be thrilled."

"But I thought _you_ weren't," Harry told me. Suddenly, I understand. But he explains anyway, just in case. "You told me you didn't want to have a baby. So I figured you weren't going to keep it."

"Harry, I would never get rid of it," I say, a little shocked. How could he think I'd ever do that? "I thought you knew that."

"Alex, calm down," he says. I oblige. "Look at it this way: you thought I would resent you for getting pregnant after we agreed not to. But that's not the case. I would _never_, ever, in a million years ever resent you, especially not for this. The point is people tend to think the worst, even if rationally they know the worst-case scenario wouldn't happen."

I smile at him.

"I love you," I say softly.

"I love you too," Harry says. He rests his hand on my stomach. "I love you and the baby and I'll always protect you both."

"I'll settle for the love part," I say, almost giggling. Harry leans in a gives me a deep kiss, then rolls out of bed and starts pulling on his boxers.

"Where are you going?" I ask him, sitting up and holding the comforter up to my collar bone.

"Downstairs," he said simply. "I'm starving, aren't you?"

I raise one eyebrow sceptically.

"Was that insinuating that I'd be hungry after one go with you?" I ask, looking serious but completely joking.

"Of course not, Love," he says, smiling deviously. "That goes without saying."

I screw up my face as a way to keep from laughing, but it doesn't work, especially because Harry's wearing this goofy smile he always wears when he's trying to get me to laugh. So, as a form of retaliation, I chuck an adjacent pillow at him, hitting him squarely in the face.

"Ouch," Harry says, rubbing his nose and laughing at the same time. "Jesus Christ, do you want dinner or not?"

"I'm not sure," I say, stretching my arm out to reach my bra, which is currently perched on top of the lamp shade of the lamp on our beside table. "I don't want to get morning sickness again."

"You've been having morning sickness?" Harry says concernedly, pulling on a pair of loose jeans over his boxers.

"Harry, why the hell do you think I've been off for the past two days?" I ask him as I scan the room looking for the matching panties to this bra.

"I just thought you'd been overworking yourself, and that you were taking some time to rest up," Harry said, snatching my turquoise lacy boy shorts off the floor and, utilizing the spandex in them, flings them at me. "I mean think about it, Lex, I never heard you or saw you throw up or any sign that you had."

"I know, I know," I sigh, pulling on my underwear and swinging my legs out of bed. "It's just I didn't want you to find out about the baby before I had the chance to tell you myself."

_"Alex!"_ Harry groans, sounding concernedly frustrated as he sits down next to me and holds me close, his chin resting on the top of my head. Damn, he smells good wearing _Fierce_. It's the the way all guys should smell. "You can ask for help dealing sometimes, you know? There's nothing wrong with it. You don't always have to take on everything yourself. And don't worry about the morning sickness thing. If you wake up and feel like you're going to be sick, I'll sit up with you until you're through."

"You're sweet," I say smiling, resting against his chest. "But you don't have to. You've got Auror training and you need your sleep. Plus there's no reason for both of us to be up all night."

"Lex, it was my idea to have a baby and I got you pregnant," he says, rubbing my back soothingly. "So I'm staying up with you to make sure your okay."

"Fine," I say, getting up, walking over to the closet and grabbing one of my t-shirts. "There's no point in arguing with you, anyway."

"Exactly," he says, smiling deviously. "Now let's go," he says, slapping me on the ass to get me moving. I let out a high-pitched yelp, mostly out of surprise, as I laugh. "I'm hungry!"

"What do you want me to make?" I ask him as I follow him down the staircase, pulling my now-dry hair into a ponytail with an elastic.

"I don't want _you_ to make anything," Harry tells me. "_I'm_ going to be cooking now."

"_You're_ going to be cooking?" I ask, laughing at the absurdity of that thought. "Now I'm really gonna be sick..."

"Hey now," Harry says warningly, grinning deviously. "Be nice. Every cook has to start somewhere."

"Does that mean we'll be eating cold cereal for the next nine months?" I ask, turning on the light in the kitchen.

"Oh haha," Harry laughs sarcastically. "Very funny. Just teach me how to make something."

"Why don't we try something simple," I say, not wanting him to try and tackle something like fettacine alfredo, which could potentially end up spilling and leave our kitchen floor freshly buttered. "Like grilled cheese."

Harry looks at me with a wrinkled expression, the kind little kids get on their faces when you're trying to feed them a food that looks a little questionable. I'm guessing Harry has never tried it.

"It's really good, Harry," I say, with the same kind of pacifying voice I use when I'm trying to get my little cousins to eat something new. I grab a skillet and put it on a burner.

"I'll take your word for it," he says, as though I just told him that escargot was actually delicious. He opens the refridgerator and grabs a bag of shredded cheese, setting on the counter. "But why on earth would anyone eat plain burnt cheese?"

* * *

I finally taught Harry to butter a skillet and occasionally stir the tomato soup. But, as I predicted, Harry was definitely not ready to make grilled cheese sandwiches. So once that was done, we packed it up and went to the Astronomy Tower to watch the sun set as we ate. We laid out a blanket and then this small portable couch so we could sit back and eat and watch the sky. 

"Wow, this is comfy," Harry says, testing the cooshiness of the couch about 3/4 of the way through his sandwich.

"Yeah, I know," I say, rearranging my plate on my lap. "I bought it in London at Bed, Bath and Beyond. It was on sale for thirty bucks."

"See?" Harry says, smiling his smile. "You _are_ going to make a good mum."

I blush again, suppressing a grin. Goddamn it, I have to stop that.

"You know Lex, you're awfully pretty when you blush," Harry says. I love how he can say that without sounding sappy. Although he does sound like a goof-ball, considering the fact that his mouth is full of half chewed grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup.

"Shut up," I laugh, swatting his arm. I drink the last bit of my tomato soup as Harry finishes off the last bit of sandwich. Harry looks over at me.

"I meant what I said, Lex," Harry says softly, his face completely serious. "You're gonna be a great mum."

I look at him, searching his face. For what, I have no clue. I've long since memorized his face, every smile, every line, every random freckle. But there's something different. Something so subtle I didn't notice it before. Something in the way he's looking at me, in the way he's tracing the lines of my face with his eyes and analyzing the depths of my eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, a faint grin on my face.

"Like what?" Harry says, wearing the same smile as me.

"Like I'm suddenly different than you remember me," I explain. "Like I changed right before your eyes."

"You have," he says, his smile growing a little. "You're glowing, Love."

I look away for a second trying to hide my pink blush, and notice the sunset.

"Harry, c'mon the sun is setting," I say, getting up and looking over the short wall around the roof.

Harry follows me to the wall, wrapping his arms around me as I lean back into him. For a couple minutes, we just stand there, watching the sun slowly slip down the horizon, the renewal of day's cycle continuing to take place. Then, just as the sun falls behind the trees, I turn around and wrap my arms around Harry's shoulders, his arms readjusting themselves around my waist.

"Lex?" Harry asks me tentatively. I widen my eyes, letting him know he has my attention. "Are you excited about the baby?"

I smile.

"Yeah, I am," I say slowly, almost savoring the words. "I'm sorry if I don't show it. It's just..."

"Just what?" he asks, not forcefully, just genuinely curious.

"Afraid, I s'pose," I tell him. He doesn't respond right away, so I know he needs me to continue. "It's just not how I planned it, you know? I pictured all of us happy and safe and carefree and living out our happily ever after scenario, not in the middle of a war zone where everyone's always scared and whenever you walk out a door, there's a good chance you won't come back."

"Lex," he says softly, brushing a few tendrils out of my eyes. "I know you're scared. I am too. Don't you think that whenever you walk out the door, I'm terrified you won't come back? But we can't live planning for a future that might not even come. We've got to live for now and hope for the best."

I nod, and realize he's completely right. I mean, no matter how much I try to tell myself that both Harry and I will, indefinitely, come out of this alive, there's a chance we might not. We have to make the best of today, because there are no guarantees about tomorrow. Because if I don't have my happily ever after today, I might not get a chance to have it tomorrow.

Finally, I let myself be excited and elated and thrilled, the way I've been dying to. A huge grin makes it's way onto my face and I hear myself start to laugh.

"Oh my god, Harry," I laugh. "I'm having a baby."

Harry leans in close to me and rests his forehead against mine, smiling widely, and says, "_We're _having a baby."

Harry keeps smiling back at me, and he starts to laugh too. Before I know it he's picking me and twirling me around and everything seems right with the world.

After a moment or two he sets me down, saying, "What do you think it'll be?"

"What do you mean, like boy or girl?" I ask, still smiling, and he responds with a vehement nod. "I have no clue, I just found out two days ago."

"What if it's a boy?" Harry asks, giddily excited like a little kid in a candy store, who just won a life-long gift certificate there. "What should we name him?"

"I know what you want me to say," I inform him, smiling slyly. "And we are not going to name our son Harry Junior."

"Aw..." Harry says, wearing a pout to rival Enrique's. "Why not?"

"Like the world can handle _two_ Harry Potters," I say, chuckling.

"Point taken," he says. "We wouldn't want our son to grow up in the shadow of his rediculously handsome father."

I laugh.

"You know," I tell him, "it could very well be a girl."

Harry suddenly has this strange look sweep across his face, like that thought hadn't crossed his mind before, but it's a wonderful idea.

"A girl..." he says, a grin creeping on his face. "Oh my gosh. A little girl." He sweeps me up in his arms again, lifting me up just a little higher than his face. "Alex," he says softly, "give me a daughter who looks just like you."

I want to cry at that moment, but for the first time in three days I'm not crying. The hell's up with that?

"I love you," I say, hoping with all my heart that he knows I mean it. He looks in my eyes, really deeply, so deep that I can almost feel him picking through my soul, and all of a sudden, I just know. I just know that even though we're not going to live forever, that the time we get is going to be fantastic anyway. And that's all I can really ask for.

"I love you too," Harry says, setting me back on my feet, never breaking our gaze. I see him dig around in his pocket, searching for something. I don't really even pay attention to it until he starts to kneel down.

Suddenly I'm going into shock again and I don't even know why. He's done this ten times before and this time shouldn't be different. But it is. Maybe it's the fact that he actually bought a ring this time, or that he's smiling and not nervously staring at me. But that's not it. This time, I'm ready. This time, it means I'm going to be Mrs. Alex Potter. Screw the third time, I guess the eleventh time's the charm.

At that thought, my hands go completely haywire, shaking and trembling like crazy, and I can't seem to breathe fast enough. I can't stop grinning and my eyes are burning horribly.

"Alexandria Moreno," Harry says quietly, not taking his eyes off me and not desisting in that grin of his, "will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

I honestly don't know how to react. I don't know whether to laugh or cry or smile or shout or hold onto Harry tight. Before I even decide, tears start flowing down my cheeks and I'm giggling and smiling and repeating "Yes!" over and over and over and clamping on to Harry like I never want to let him go. Because sometimes you don't have to choose. Sometimes, you get everything you want.

* * *

**Hope you liked it! It was a blast to write! But I have a proposition for you all. Since Harry and Alex just got engaged I wanted to see how many of you wanted a wedding chapter or not. I need at least ten votes, so I'll wait till i get them all. And please, only one vote per reviewer. Oh, but don't forget to tell me how you liked the chapter in the same review. **

**Okay here goes my list of new ppl to thank:**

**1. Sum nox and saher, my homeys!**

**2. My little brother, Anthony, who was patient enough to sacrifice his computer time so this chapter should be put out.**

**3. nocturnal007, a new reviewer who put me on their author alert list! Thanks muchly!**

**4. thegirlwhocan'twrite, a new reviewer who has read both my stories and likes them both! THANK YOU FOR LIKING "THINGS I'LL NEVER SAY!" I haven't got many reviews on that and I rather liked the story, so it's good to hear some praise on it. **

**And that's all folks! REMEMBER TO CAST YOUR VOTE!**

**MUCH LOVE!**

**♥mmb♥**


	10. Sixish Months Later

**Hello my rediculously patient readers!!!!!!!!!!**

**I'm SOOO sorry that I haven't updated in... like, forever, but I've been having tremendous writer's block on this. I have, however, been very busy with different, new stories and I also got myself a boyfriend! (Loud squeal) Lol. **

**Anyway, I know you're tired of my sorry excuses and I am too. So here it is, second to last chapter, my people.**

**Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah (sorry to all the people I'm offending by spelling it wrong), Happy Kwanzaa, and any other holiday you're celebrating,**

**mmb**

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**Chapter Ten: Six-ish Months Later**

"Harry, c'mon, close your eyes," I say, putting on my stern, motherly voice, looking him straight in the eye with a look that quite clearly says, 'I mean it.' Of course that doesn't keep him from keeping his eyes wide open, fighting to get past me. I sigh as he continues to bounce around like a three-year-old on speed, before I finally snap at him. "My god, Harry, any day now your going to be a dad! Act your age and not your shoe size!"

I feel bad about yelling, but fortunately he's gotten used to my hormonal outbursts.

"My goodness, someone's cranky," he says pleasantly, still smiling that smirky grin of his.

"Can you honestly blame me?" I ask him, placing one hand on my hip and resting the other on my ginormous belly. I swear to God, sometimes I think I'm carrying five babies instead of one. "You're acting like you're a toddler, and I can't take care of two babies at once."

"Oh, who wants to grow up anyway?" he says, shrugging off my criticism. I eye him with my death stare. He rolls his eyes and says, "Alright already, I'll tone it down!"

He obligingly closed his eyes.

"Thank you," I say sweetly. I check his eyes, just to make sure they're fully closed. Once I'm satisfied, I slowly open the door to the nursery, designed solely by me.

Since Harry insisted that he wanted the sex of the baby to be a surprise, I basically had my work cut out for me trying to decorate the room. Since I couldn't use just pink or just blue, I decided on a pale yellow, not bright enough to hurt the baby's eyes but definitely not plain and boring, with white baseboards. Then, around fifteen weeks, I called up Abuelita and asked her for all the baby stuff from when Dom and I were little, and asked Ana for any baby toys or stuff like that which Enrique and Cristina had outgrown. After a week and a half of rounding up hand-me-down sleepers and stuffed animals, it took a couple days and the help of three big strong men (or at least that's what I told Harry, Ron and Dominik to get them to help a girl out) to disinfect it all with Spray Away (_Just one spray sends the odor away! _My god, what's happened to the Ad Agencies of today?) and that left them in near mint condition, ready for Baby Potter's arrival.

I then bought a bunch of really inexpensive, unfinished furniture (changing table, mountable cupboards, dresser, book shelf and an extra large crib) and that began the really tough part. The walls had been easy because we (we being me and Hermione, who, also needing a pregnancy project, had joined my escapade, seeing as Mrs. Weasley, so thrilled about her new grandchild, had taken it upon herself to make Hermione and Ron's nursery) used _Fantastapaint!_, quite possibly the greatest magical invention ever. All you do is neatly paint the sides and with a quick incantation, it fills in the entire wall very evenly.

So suffice it to say me and Hermione were more than a little upset when we discovered there were no magical sanders or self-painting furniture incantations. At 24 weeks, I was already gargantuan and at 9 Hermione was already starting to show a little bit and began to waddle (only slightly, but there was a definite duckness in the way she stepped), so we were forced to employ Ginny's help as we enviously eyed her perfectly flat belly while tediously sanding. After that, we easily painted the furniture white to match the baseboards, then enjoyed sponge panting powder pink and baby blue ducks and bunnies on the drawers and doors and stuff.

Once all that was done, I went to the Bed, Bath and Beyond in Muggle London and bought some cute drapes with little duckies on them and some white sheets and blankets for the crib (that way I can bleach them. God damn, I'm smart...) and a soft, fluffy rug to cover up some of the hardwood floor.

And the results are what I'm currently showing Harry.

"Okay," I say, grabbing his hand and leading him into the room, my eyes still diligently watching his, making sure he's not peeking. "Okay, stop. _Now_ you can look."

Harry looks around in the room, slowly doing a 360 degree turn to take it all in. For a minute he doesn't say a word or show any expression, still trying to analyze everything.

"Wow," he says, grinning, pulling his eyes away from the room and stopping on me. He walks toward me and wraps his arms around me, holding me close. I just lean into him, closing my eyes and taking in the moment, not to mention shamelessly breathing in _Fierce_ cologne. Everything about this moment is perfect. "This is awesome!"

"You like it?" I say, smiling.

"I love it," he says, kissing the top of my head. "And the baby's gonna love it." He adds, resting his hand on my belly.

"Yeah, all ten of them," I say, laughing.

As my eyes look over the room, I spot the wedding photos I put up in their fancy little frames. One of them is of me and Harry, one of black and whites we took with the photographer (a gift from Dom and Ginny) after the wedding--I simply refused to take them beforehand, it being bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding--and this one in particular just one of those boring formal pictures where you have to smile all daintily and touch each other like you're being watched by a nun. It's a decent picture, but painfully run-of-the-mill, except for the fact that I'm just starting to bludge out of the middle of my dress.

I glance at the next one over. This one is my absolute favorite. Me and Harry are just looking at each other, expressionless. I really don't know why I like it so much. Ginny and Hermione always laugh at it, but there's something about it. Like, you couldn't possibly say for certain what we're thinking, and it leaves so much for you to interpret.

Then we have one next to that, just of my bare gargantuan belly--with the stretch marks Photoshopped out, courtesy of Hermione's mom, who is, of course, a Muggle and a whiz at computers--with Harry's hands resting on top of mine. It sounds like a creepy picture, but trust me, it's really sweet when you actually see it.

Then next to that is this giagantic picture frame with a bunch of little spaces and one big space in the middle. The middle space will be the baby's first picture, the one we'll take once we get him or her home, and the ones around it will be for one picture on their birthday each year. It'll go up to it's thirteenth birthday and then I'll just post the pictures next to it.

"Look at the time," Harry says, looking down at his watch, then back up at me. "We have to get ready for dinner. I don't know about you, but I'm more than anxious to find out what Hermione's having." He walks over to me, kissing me deeply, and then smiling at me. "You did an awesome job on the nursery, Love."

"Thanks," I say airily. It seems strange, that after all this time, after all that we've been through together, that a simple little kiss can leave me breathless like that. Harry walks out, leaving me in the room.

It's always weird to get used to something new like this. Everything feels so unexpected and spontaneous, like wherever you look, you might discover something new. And I'm not just talking about the room. In approximately two or three weeks, me and Harry'll be bringing home a beautiful, perfect little baby boy or girl. And nothing will ever be the same. Everything will be brand new, around every turn something unexpected and spontaneous. But it won't be easy. I know that it'll be tougher than anything either of us has ever done. But every year, every day, every minute, every moment will be completely worth any tough times I will ever have. Because motherhood is a job that you never quit.

But then again, why would you want to?

* * *

"Oh my god!" I say, pulling out two tiny little sleepers, one in blue and one in pink. "It's adorable!" 

"I'm so glad you like it!" Ginny says, smiling widely and batting her long, mascara-ed eyelashes. "I just decided to get one of each because I know you're going to have one or the other."

I laugh. We're out for dinner, as a small get-together just with us three couples. It's a kind of Last Supper for us, basically our last big dinner together while we are all childless. Dom and Ginny insisted on getting me and Hermione yet another gift for the babies, even though we already had our joint baby shower (Dom is a specialist at St. Mungo's--making oodles of money--and Ginny makes some money at the Ministry, so they make more money that Ron and Hermione and Harry and me combined, so they continue to spoil us).

"You guys don't need to keep doing this," I say, looking at Gin and Dom. "You've already given us tons of help already."

"Lex, we want to help you guys out," Ginny says, resting her hand on mine, looking me in the eye with her intensely blue eyes. "We know you guys would do the same for us."

I smile gratefully at her. I would.

"Okay," Ginny says, looking over at Hermione now. "Now open yours."

"Alright, alright," Hermione says obligingly, opening her impeccably-wrapped present very slowly and carefully, so she can save the wrapping paper, something that drives me absolutely bonkers.

"Hermione, could you unwrap that thing any slower?" I ask, annoyed as I rub my enormous stomach. "I swear, I'll go into labor, and you'll still be daintily opening that damn gift."

Everyone looks at me, but not in shock. They all have this look on their faces, as though I'm just priceless with my grouchy comments, and then resume as though nothing happened.

"Oh my gosh!" Hermione says, grinning after _finally_ opening the present, which turned out to be a rediculously adorable stuffed elephant. "Gin, this is so sweet! Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Ginny says, very pleased that she picked out another winning present. For a bit, we all sit in silence, looking eagerly at Hermione and Ron, who are quite clearly ignoring us.

"Okay, out with it," I say, grinning in spite of myself. The two of them look at me, bemused. "You're driving us all crazy with the secrecy. What are you having?"

Hermione and Ron look at each other, sharing a knowing kind of smile, and then look around at us.

"We're having... a girl!" Hermione says, grinning uncontrollably. We all jump up to walk over to them and give them hugs and congratulations.

"If you'll excuse me for a bit," Hermione says once we finish up with our mini love-fest, having Ron help her out of her seat as she proudly displays her 5th month belly, "I have to use the loo."

I watch the two of them as they walk to the bathroom, Ron with his hand reassuringly placed on the small of her back--mainly for balance--as Hermione slowly waddles along, her fine, curly ponytail swinging behind her.

"They're adorable, aren't they?" Ginny says, looking at me looking at them. I smile at Ginny and nod.

"Kinda feels weird doesn't it?" I say quietly after a few seconds.

"What feels weird?" Dom asks.

"That in a week or so we'll be parents," I say, looking around. With us, we keep referring to the babies as our collective children. "That things are gonna change faster than we can keep up with."

"Lex," Ginny says soothingly, reaching across the table to grab my hand, "we're all gonna be here. Me and Dom will be babysitters whenever you need us. Ron and Hermione will be able to help to, so Bean can bond with his or her cousin. Just one call and we'll all be there to help out. Sure, things are gonna change. And fast. But if you ever fall behind along the way, we'll be right there to help you back up."

"Thanks, Gin," I say, smiling.

We just sit there for a minute, enjoying the moment and each other's company. Suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my lower back, the pain reminiscent of a pinched nerve.

"Geez," I mutter under my breath as I massage the spot on my lower back.

"Something wrong?" Dom asks, trying to act nonchalant, but I know him too well.

"I'm not going into labor, Dom," I sigh, tired of having to explain my every inexplicable body pain. Every Braxton Hicks I got, Dom would rush me to St. Mungo's. After about three times, they insisted that Dom cut it out. Then every time my lower back was achy or I felt a little crampy he'd freak out. Now he's gonna get all worked up over a twinge. "I just have a pinched nerve. I get them all the time, seeing as my body's being stretched into outer limits."

"Lex, I'm not trying to pester you," he says. "I just wanna make sure the baby's okay."

"Dom, just trust me," I beg of him. "I'm not going to do anything to put the baby in danger."

"Okay then," Dom says, just as Hermione and Ron sit back down at the table.

"Hey, 'Mione," I ask, trying to take my mind off of my stomach, which is getting a little crampy. "What names to do you have in mind?"

"Actually we were wondering if you guys had any ideas," Ron says, looking around at us. "Because Hermione thought it was a boy."

"I'm sorry," Hermione says, mock-offended. "I honestly thought the baby was a boy. So now I need some help."

"What about Caitlin?" I asked, rubbing my belly.

"Not bad..." Hermione said, taking a pen and pad out of her purse and writing the name down. "Okay, what else?"

"How about we just throw out some names and then you write down the ones you like and discard the ones you don't?" Ginny suggests. We all nod in agreement.

"Cassandra," I say, remembering a character from a book I read in my fourth year. "Ashley. Marina."

"Scarlett," Ginny says. "Hayley."

"Isabella," Harry says, naming off one of my cousins. "Cady. Melanie. Kacie."

"Paulina," Dom says, thinking of Antonio's (my cousin) wife, Paulina. "Ariana. Gabrielle. Suri."

"Corinna," I say, thinking of another book I read. "Sophie. Morgan."

"Alana," Harry says. I remember us considering that name when we skimmed through the baby name book the other day. "Masiela. Daniela. Caroline."

"Emma," I say, as I get another one of those pinched nerves in my lower back. "Cheyenne. Julia."

"Julia..." Hermione says softly, savoring the name. "I like that. Okay I think that'll be enough for now." She tucks the pen and pad away in her purse. "Now Alex, Harry, what are your top names?"

"For a girl," Harry says, "my favorite name is Holly and for a boy my favorite name is Connor."

"For a girl," I pipe in, "I like--"

And cue the pain. Suddenly the crampy feeling I've been having reaches critical mass.

"Harry!" I whimper.

"Breath, Lex, breath," he tells me calmly. How can he be so calm when I'm freaking out! I breathe for about thirty more seconds and finally the white hot searing pain in my abdomin subsides.

"Gin, Ron," I breathe, catching my breath, "can you go back to the apartment and get our hospital bag? It's a purple duffle bag in the coat closet. I need you to put our toothbrushes and paste and a bunch of toiletries and stuff. Once that's done I need you to really quickly take the basinet out of the box so we don't have to fuck with it once we get home."

"Language, Love," Harry says complacently.

"I'm in labor with your baby," I say, plastering a fake smile on my face and using the same calm tone as him, "I'll say whatever the fuck I please."

"Yes, darling," he says, still smiling.

"Sure thing," Ginny says, in a tone that tells me that I needn't have even asked. She hitches up her purse, then adds, "C'mon Ron," and with that the two of them speed out of the restaurant.

"Dom," I say, looking at him. "I need you to Apparate to St. Mungo's immediately. Get us a room and Harry, Hermione and me'll follow as fast as we can."

"It's okay, Lex," he says, quickly. "I'll stay with you."

"Yeah, Alex," Hermione says to me, brushing a stray hair out of her face. "I can go instead."

"Are you crazy?" I say. "You're five months pregnant. How are you expecting to fit through the Apparation hole?"

"Alex, I want to stay," he says. "We can call ahead."

_"Dominik,"_ I say emphatically, looking him in the eye. "I'll be _fine_. Hermione and Harry'll take care of me just fine for the next ten minutes."

He looks at me, like letting me go is the hardest thing for him to do.

"Dom," I whisper in his ear, "you can't protect me forever. You have to let me go."

He looks at me again with pain in his eyes, like he can feel the pain of severing the close tie we've had all these years. It's the connection that's protected and shielded the both of us from pain and heartache and... life. And it'll always be there. But we can't be what we've been. It's not gonna be us against the world anymore. It'll be me and Harry against the world. And Gin and Dom against the world. But we'll always be close. More than close. Best friends. We'll still read each other's minds, and pick on each other, and laugh until we pee our pants. And I think that the change might just be for the better.

"Fine," Dom says, grinning. "Keep your chin up, Lex. I'll see you in ten."

"Okay," I say, nodding. He weaves his way throught the procession of waitresses and other random people blocking the walkways and gets out the door quickly.

"Okay, you guys," I say, in an official sort of tone as I straighten myself up, "help me up. I'm gonna guess we've got at least..." I check my watch, "ten more minutes before the next contraction hits. Let's try to make it so that I'm pumped full of drugs by that time, eh?"

* * *

**So there it was. The next chapter will be the last. Hope you enjoyed the run!**

**Special thanks to:**

**Sum nox, who is still my homey-g even though we're not in the same Biology class anymore! Love you like a fat kid loves cake!**

**My bf, who will probably never read this, but deserves recongition for giving me a little inspiration (scratch that, a LOT of inspiration).**

**All my reviewers! Who I desperately hope will review TONS after I post this...**

**Love y'all,**

**MMB**


	11. Live It

**Here it is... ladies and... gentleman or gentlemen? As matter of fact, are there any guys reading this? **

**Oh well. Here is the grand finale, the end of all my hard work... for this story anyway. If you like my writing, then PLEASE put me on your author alert list, so you can see the rest of my works. And, one last time, I beg of you to review. :)**

**And lastly, I thought it'd be nice to thank someone who has been a dedicated reader of this story since... well since she found out about it. Lol. Here's the dedication:**

**_This entire story has been dedicated to my dear, dear bud, who has stuck with me and this story since she began reading it. She has laughed and cried and laughed some more... Thanks a bunch LISA! INFINITE X'S AND O'S. _**

**P.S. Parts of this are probably rittled with mistakes because it's 12:34 right now and I'm not entirely conscious. But all the content is good. So enjoy ppl.**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Live It**

"Alex, come _on_!" Harry begs of me, looking excited. "Just one more push!"

Yeah, just one more push. Easy for you to say, you're not the one trying to push a baby through a ten-centimeter wide cervix. Grow a uterus, go through labor, and then you can tell me one more push.

"Alex, the baby's ready!" Evie, our healer, says to me. "Just one more big push!"

I nod my head wearily, gathering a few more breaths as I prepare. One… two… three…

I push, emitting a loud scream as I do. The pain is the worst I've ever felt, but I don't think about it. Or at least I try not to. I just keep pushing.

I hear a cry. A little, high pitched cry.

"Congratulations, mummy!" Evie says to me, smiling as she holds up the baby. "It's a boy!"

"Harry…" I say smiling, tiredly resting against the pillows. "A little boy…"

"I know, Love," he says, brushing the stray hairs out of my face. "He's beautiful. You were amazing." He kisses me on the forehead.

I look over at the nurses who are cleaning off the baby.

"Can I hold him?" I ask.

"Not quite yet, Love," the healer says. "We wouldn't want you to be holding the baby when the contractions hit again."

I'm immediately more alert.

"Again?" me and Harry ask in union.

"What do you mean again?" I ask.

"You are aware you're carrying twins, right?" she says tentatively.

"WHAT?!" I scream. "I CAN'T DO THIS AGAIN!"

"That means, no, we didn't know," Harry says, much more calmly than I did.

"Alex, we need you to calm down," she says to me soothingly. "It'll make this a lot easier."

I want to tell her to fuck off, that she doesn't know anything. Then I quickly remind myself that she went to school for this. So maybe she knows _something_.

"Okay," I sigh, calming myself down. "Okay, I can do this…. I think. How long will it be before the next contractions hit?"

"Any second now Alex," Evie says calmly.

"Any second?" I moan.

"Don't worry, Love," she says soothingly, sitting back down at the end of the bed. "This will be a lot easier than the first, and a lot shorter."

"It's okay, Lex," Harry whispers in my ear, kissing my temple. "You can do it."

And here it comes.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" I scream, giving Evie, Harry, and all the nurses permanent damage to their eardrums.

After about ten more minutes, we have two beautiful babies. As Evie and the nurses are cleaning up the second baby, they hand me the boy, all bundled up in a little blue blanket with a little blue beanie pulled down to his eyebrows.

As they hand him to me, I don't know what to feel. I don't know whether to cry, or smile, or laugh or something else. I just stare at it for a bit.

"Harry," I say looking up at him. "We have a baby."

"I know, Love," he says, looking excited. "Two of them."

I run my finger along his cheek, and it feels like silk under my fingers. He has a little tuft of black hair sticking out from under his hat, just like Harry. In fact it's hard to find any of me in him; he has Harry's face, and nose and mouth. The only thing I can tell that's from me is his olive skin tone.

"What should we name him?" I ask.

"Dunno," he says softly, looking at the baby adoringly. "How about after our dads?"

"No…" I reason. "James is a hard name to saddle a little kid with, and Sirius is impossible to pronounce."

"Any other choices?" he asks.

"What about…. Cyrus," I ask. "It's kinda like Sirius, only easier and a little more common."

"Middle name?"

I look at the baby, trying to think of a decent middle name. I take off his beanie and find that his hair is sticking up in every imaginable direction. I look up at Harry.

"James, of course."

"Cyrus James Potter…" Harry says aloud, like he's testing it out. He grins. "I like it."

I return the smile and then continue to gaze upon my son. My son. I like the sound of that.

He's so small. Baby small. And he's got adorable rolls of fat under his chin and on his little arms. His little lips part in a tired yawn. I trace the lines of his face, from his eyebrows down his temples over his round cheeks and his pursed lips. I pull him close, feeling his chest expand and contract and breathing in his unique scent.

"Hello, my sweet boy," I whisper to Cyrus. "Mommy loves you very much. Yes she does."

I give him a kiss on the forehead, and he coos.

"Lex, darling," Evie says, coming over with the second baby. It's wrapped up in a pink blanket. "You have a girl."

Harry reaches down to hold Cyrus as Evie hands me the girl. I just look at her and suddenly I can't help but cry. She looks as much like me as Cyrus looks like Harry. Her nose, her mouth, her face and her eyebrows are all mine. And she's so tiny. Much smaller than Cyrus. She fits comfortably in the space from the crook of my elbow to my hand.

"Harry, she's so little!" I cry, holding her close to my chest. I look at Evie. "Is she okay and everything?"

"It's normal for one twin to be a little bit smaller," she explains. "But everything's in working order."

"She's perfect, Harry," I whisper, smiling. "They both are."

"That they are," he says softly in my ear, then kisses my temple.

"What should we name her?" I ask him.

"How about Alexandria," he suggests, "after her beautiful mother."

"Not after me," I laugh. Harry looks at me, silently telling me not to be modest. I roll my eyes. "Listen, everyone tells me I look just like my mother. So let's name the baby after her."

"Elena isn't exactly an easy name either," he notes.

"Yeah, but no one called my mom Elena. They all called her Elle. There's no easier name for a little kid. She can spell it with one letter."

"Okay, what about a middle name?"

I look at her, and just as I do, she yawns, making a small squeaky sound. Her eyelids squeeze together tightly, then loosen up a little, and she opens her eyes just a snatch.

"Lily," I say, looking more closely at her eyes. "Because she has her eyes."

"Okay," Harry says, putting the babies next to each other. "I dub you," he says in a regal voice, pointing at Cyrus, "Cyrus James Potter. And I dub you," he says, pointing at Elle, "Elena Lily Potter."

Harry looks at me, and leans in and gives me a kiss on lips.

As Harry wraps his arms around me and plants a gentle kiss on the top of my head, I wonder what I've done to deserve to have created something so beautiful.

Do you ever wonder if maybe life really isn't fair? I'm beginning to think that it isn't. Why do bad things happen to good people? How come people who don't deserve second chances, like me, always seem to get them?

We always think of it that way, the negative, glass-half-empty way. It's life's great equalizer, the whole being unfair bit. In the end, the vast majority of us'll be able to look back on our lives and realize that we've all had about the same amount of unfairness. And undeserved joys. Like right now.

As I kiss the top of my son and daughter's heads and feel Harry's strong arm around us all, I thank God that the world isn't fair.

* * *

"Okay..." Harry says excitedly, opening the door to the loft with one hand and holding Elena with the other as I follow behind him with Cyrus. "We're home, buggers!" 

"You know," I say, setting down our hospital bag, "Enrique and Cristina are gonna be pretty mad that the twins stole their nickname."

"Well then," Harry says, dropping the keys on the island counter, "I'll just have to think up more nicknames, won't I, Ella?"

"See?" I say, grinning at him. "You've already thought up one for Elena."

"I have, haven't I?" Harry says, looking pleased with himself. He looks down at Elena. "How do you like that?" Elena coos at him. "I'll take that as a thumbs up."

I laugh, and sit down at the breakfast bar.

"Here, gimme Cyrus," he says, holding Elena easily in one arm and reaching the other out for Cyrus. I gracefully hand him over, and Harry takes them into the living room.

"This, my children," Harry says, sounding like a tour guide for some historical castle or an art museum, "is the living room. It includes the sofa," he pauses, allowing their little eyes to take in the glory of the sofa, "and the armchairs," another pause as he turns to face the chairs, "and the fireplace, which is hard to appreciate because there's no fire in it at the moment, but you'll probably see it tomorrow night. Also, we have a television. Most wizarding families don't, but your mum is a TV-holic, and simply must see her shows."

He looks back at me and winks as I eye him dangerously. He leans in closer to the babies and audibly whispers, "Word to the wise: do _not_ cry during Mummy's programs. It might just be the last thing you do."

"Hey!" I say indignantly.

"Anyway," he says, grinning fiendishly, taking them up the stairs. I follow close behind. "This," he says, entering the bathroom, "is the loo. You two won't be spending too much time in here until you're a little bit bigger, but it's still very important because Mummy spends quite a lot of time in here, primping her hair and showering endlessly--"

"Enough," I say dangerously, though he knows I'm joking from the little smirk on my face. Harry does obligingly stop, though.

"This," he says, standing in the doorway of the guest bedroom, "is the guest bedroom. It's completely unremarkable as well, except for the fact that we're fairly certain you two's cousin that Auntie Hermione is having was conceived in there--"

"Harry!" I say, laughing. "No more commentary."

"Oh, c'mon," he pleads with his sad eyes. "I just wanna show them the office."

I sigh.

"Okay," I grumble. Harry grins and kisses me on the cheek, and then goes towards the stairs.

"This," he says, entering the office and turning all the way around to show them a 360 degree view, "is Daddy's office. There's a bunch of maps and old manuscripts and such that I use to help me find all of Voldemort's scary horcruxes. So far, me and your mum have found and destroyed five of them: the diary, the ring, Nagini, the Gryffindor sword, and the locket. We still have one more to go, but we're hot on it's trail."

Just then, Elena and Cyrus heave a big yawn in unison.

"Sounds like they're tired," Harry says. "Do you have to feed them?"

"Nah, I did that before we left the hospital," I say, stretching out my hands to take one of them. He hands me Elena "We just have to get them in their 'jamies and then put them to sleep."

"Okay then," Harry says, starting towards the stairs as I follow him.

"And as the final part of the tour," I say as the two of us enter the nursery, mimicking Harry's tone earlier, "is your room. Mommy worked very hard on it, as well as Auntie Hermione and Tia. Although, since me and Hermione were pregnant, Tia did most of the heavy duty stuff. And I'll have you know that nothing dirty happened in this room, despite what your father will be to eager to share with you." I shoot Harry a smirky look. "Anyway, you two are tired, so me and Papa are gonna put you to sleep."

I set Elena down on the changing table, and heave a big yawn of my own.

"Man, I'm tired," I say to no one in particular.

"Lex, go lay down," Harry says, setting Cyrus down next to Elena. "You're exhausted."

"Harry, it's fine," I say. I add a smile to my face, as though it proves I'm okay.

"You had two babies less than a week ago," Harry said, giving me a kiss on the forehead. "You deserve some extra rest, Love."

"Thank you," I say quietly, not bothering to fight it anymore because I really _am_ exhausted. I look down at Cyrus and Elena. "I'm going to sleep now, you guys. Good night," I say to Elena, leaning down to kiss her little nose. "Sweet dreams, my sweet girl. And you," I say to Cyrus, giving him a raspberry on his forehead, as he giggles a little, "my little monstrosity, sleep tight, and be good for Papa! He's tired too, you know."

I give Harry a quick kiss and then go into me and Harry's room. I go and do my little before-bed ritual: washing my face, moisturizing, brushing my teeth and other such girly things. After that I change into some sweatpants and an old t-shirt, but I can't seem to find my slippers. Under normal circumstances, I would just go without, but it was pretty chilly, so I go to the twins' room to ask Harry if he'd seen them.

I step into the hallway, and hear Harry talking to the twins. Eager to hear what he's saying, I stand just outside the doorway where Harry can't see me.

"... she's pretty great, your Mum is," Harry says. I peek around the corner for a second and see him looking down at the two of them in their crib. "I can still remember the night I first asked her out." I hear one of them coo. Cyrus, if I'm not mistaken. "Do you want to hear about it? Is that it? Okay, then, this'll be your first bedtime story."

"So when your Mum and I first started Hogwarts, your Mum wasn't too fond of me," Harry started off. "She seemed to think I got off easy a lot, which wasn't entirely false, but it wasn't _my_ fault. The thing is, having been the only one to defeat old Voldemort, I got a lot of attention and sometimes some special treatment. In fact, I even made it onto the Quidditch team in my first year. That really sent your Mum over the edge. See, she's a phenomenal Quidditch player, not necessarily better at Seeking than me, but she can play _every _position and play them all damn well better than the average player. So she was pretty angry when I got one without even trying." Harry chuckles a bit.

"I remember one time I was practicing out there and she wanted to play there by herself, and the second she saw me there, she did that little sigh of hers and said, 'Oh, forget it.' And then I asked her why she didn't like me so much and she flat out told me. She said, 'Everything comes so easily for you, Potter! You get points for Gryffindor like nothing! You have the respect of all the teachers without even trying! You get on the Quidditch team when you were breaking the rules! What about me! I have to work twice as hard for what you get without breaking a sweat!'" Harry laughed again.

"She has no qualms about speaking her mind... I guess that's why I love her so much. Anyway, after that little discussion we became friends, best friends, even. But I always knew I liked her. But you know your Mum, or if you don't you will soon enough, and she can be quite the flirt. So I didn't think she liked me. But I loved her, so, so much, and so I stayed friends with her, because I couldn't imagine living without her.

"So, the years went on, we both grew older, and your Mum only grew smarter and more beautiful, and I still loved her. But I knew that she didn't love me--or so I thought. So I tried to start this thing with this other girl, Cho Chang. She was a Ravenclaw, very pretty girl, and pretty nice as well. She was chinese, had this long black hair and a nice smile, not that she compared to your Mum. Plus Cho played Quidditch which made her instantly hotter. Anyways, we had a few flirty encounters but other than that, not too much, but I was fairly certain she liked me.

"So I started going after her, and then in fourth year, while you're Dad's ass was on the line during the Triwizard Tournament, there was this ball. The Yule Ball. I know what you're thinking, 'Dad can't dance,' but stay with me here. So since I was a Champion, I was required to have a date to accompany me to the ball. By this time, I'd figured I was over your Mum, and felt no qualms about taking Cho and not her.

"The thing was," Harry continued, "it turned out Cho already had a date. Cedric Diggory. And I hated him for it. Without reason, and he was a hell of a nice guy, hard-working, kind and decent. He died that year..." Harry's voice trails off for a second. "But anyway. It was hard to lose Cho to someone everyone thought was the "real" Hogwarts champion, not to mention that everyone thought he was more handsome than your Dad. Not true of course--" I stifle a laugh, "but people do talk."

"Anyhoo, I was sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, brooding over my 'loss of date,' when all of a sudden, your Mum comes bounding out of nowhere. She asked me what's wrong and I spilled the whole sad story: Cho, Diggory and my obliterated ego. Then she suggested that I take her. And I admit it, I laughed a little. Okay, maybe a lot. I ended up hurting her feelings and once we got things patched up, she told me I should take her to make Cho jealous. I wasn't too fond of the idea, but I needed a date and I needed to get Cho to fall for me. So I reluctantly agreed.

"Then that night, I showed up downstairs and your Mum was late, as per usual. So I just leaned up against the wall and waited. And of course, as I was waiting, I spotted Diggory and Cho. It nearly made me sick, watching her readjust his tie and fix his hair. I was ready to go and beat the snot out of Diggory, when your Mum showed up.

"My heart stopped. See, your Mum was always very beautiful, but she was a tomboy. Up until this point, I'd never seen her in a skirt, let alone a dress. And she was dressed to kill. She had on this deep pink strapless gown, with her hair curled and parted off to the side. The most beautiful thing was, she actually looked nervous. Like she wasn't too sure of herself or how she looked. Which was cute because she was usually confident to the point of cockiness.

"After that I suddenly felt any smidget of feelings I'd ever had for Cho evaporate instantly. And not just because your Mum was beautiful. I just realized that I couldn't be her friend anymore. I couldn't watch her be with another guy unless I had at least _tried_ to make us work. And I couldn't act like there wasn't something there when there was. Even if it meant that we couldn't be friends afterwards. Because just the chance of being with your mother was worth more to me than the fear of hearing 'no'."

I stand there, smiling gently and leaning up against the wall.

"And the rest is history," Harry says, concluding the whole story. "We got together, we dated for four years, and then Mummy found out she was having you two buggers. Then I forced her to marry me and now the four of us are a real family."

I listen carefully and hear two little yawns, and I, being their mother, know that sleep is eminant.

"One last thing, before you two go to sleep," Harry says. "The thing about your Mum is, she loves unabashedly. She's never afraid to love someone. And it can be scary sometimes, loving someone so much. Or being afraid they don't love you. So if you ever are afraid, think of your Mum and hopefully you'll find some courage. Because you're Mum gave you life so you could live it. Don't be afraid to live it."

* * *

I heave a big sigh as I collapse on the couch, even as I have a big smile on my face as the words Harry just said ring over and over inside my head. I put up the foot rest and enjoy the peace for all of thirty seconds before Harry follows and jumps on the couch beside me, landing haphazardly. I chuckle at his goofiness. 

"How is it you have so much energy?" I ask him, smiling. "I'm exhausted."

"Oh, just being with you," he says, laying with his long gangly legs across my lap and his head resting on the armrest. "You're my drug, darling."

"How romantic." I laugh at him tiredly. He grabs my arm and pulls me down next to him and we reposition ourselves so we can cuddle better. "You really oughta write poetry or something."

"Well I snagged you," he says self-righteously. "Who does that say more about?"

"Hey!" I say indignantly, grabbing an adjacent pillow and swinging it at his head.

"Ouch!" Harry yelped, rubbing his nose. "That's not very nice to do to the love of your life."

"Who says _you're_ the love of my life?" I say, completely joking. "I'll have you know I'm in love with Mason O'Connor."

Harry looks shocked, and then responds by throwing me into a Tickle War. I, being my extremely ticklish self, completely lose it, laughing and convulsing and begging for mercy.

"Harry!" I scream, giggling hysterically. "Harry, stop!"

"Surrender!" Harry orders me jokingly. "Surrender, you silly girl!"

"Never!" I cry, my stomach aching something fierce from laughing so hard. "I'll... I'll never renounce... my love for Mason!"

"Say it!" Harry shouts, tickling me even harder. "Take it back!"

"Oh FINE!" I yell. Harry stops, and leans in closer to my face.

"I'm waiting," he says, looking at me with this intensely tempting look on his face.

"I love you, Harry Potter," I say in a monotone, reciting the same thing he always used to make me repeat when we used to get in Tickle Wars all the time and making no attempt to have it sound spontaneous. "I don't love--insert celebrity name here. You are the love of my life, and I love you and only you."

Harry smiles mischievously and kisses me gently on the lips.

"Was that so hard?" he asks me.

"Harder than you know," I say sarcastically. Harry laughs and we readjust--again--so that we can snuggle.

"I love how mature we are," Harry says after a few seconds.

"Me too," I chuckle.

"Do you think we'll ever grow up?" he asks me, running his fingers through my hair gently. I take a second to think about it.

"God, I hope not," I say grinning.

Harry kisses me softly on the lips, and then I snuggle up to his chest. Maybe this motherhood thing won't be so hard...

Just then I hear a loud cry from upstairs, one that's unmistakably Cyrus's, being joined after a few seconds by Elena. I laugh.

"Well," I say, sitting up and pulling my hair back into a careless bun. "Duty calls."

* * *

**Awww... (tear) I can't believe this is the end. **

**This _is_ the end, though. Unfortunately. But I hope you all enjoyed the story, even if it is pretty fluffy. But it's been grand, folks. I've loved writing this and I've loved all your feedback.**

**And now, for the final (and VERY long) round of thanks:**

**To Metamorphmagusgirl, hpsoccergeek79, ****who just put this story on their story alert lists. That gave me the little extra push I need to finish this up. And please you two, for me, PLEASE review this one last chapter. Cuz ya love me... ♥**

**To my darling bf, who still wont ever see this, but deserves recognition anyway. Cuz I love 'im... ♥**

**To emo karen, Celestial Tear, and Amy Muffin, who added this story to their favorite stories list. Cuz it makes me happy... ♥ (Psssst... don't forget to review. Please.)**

**To Augusta-Gone91, who put this story on her alert list AND her faves list AND her author alert list AND her favorite authors list. Not to mention the nice little review I got. Much love chica. ♥**

**To sum nox. Thanking her needs no explanation. ♥**

**To Devotion408, who was my first reviewer for this story. If you're reading this, Devotion, I just want to thank you for getting the ball rolling. It meant a whole lot. Plus you've given me the most reviews, which also proved to be the most helpful. ♥**

**To Stryped. Even though we aren't hanging out, it's good to know you're still reading. And it's funny you mentioned twins, that's exactly what I was planning. Great minds think alike, I suppose.**

**To ohhanotheranonomouswriter, who was my second place reviewer. You have been such a nice reviewer and so encouraging! And if you would, I would greatly appreciate one last review **

**To Lisa, my darling! Thank you for reading! I'm so glad you've liked this story and I promise there's so much more to come! Hope you liked the dedication at the beginning! Love you oodles! ♥**

**To every reviewer I haven't named already: Kratos Aurion89, GinnyRulez54, xxxpinkprincessxxx, cookiedoughmunchkin, Nocturnal007, and jon02. Because every review is special and awesome. Thanks so much!**

**And here is my final good bye. Bubye y'all! Happy Holidays, and hopefully you will all be anxiously awaiting my next story! I hope...**

**Much love,**

**Mystrymoviebrunette**


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